Strength and Weakness
by Emiri-chan the GREAT
Summary: D's target is in the town of Bremmen, but intense hatred waits for him not in the vampire he must kill, but in the people. Will his own weaknesses destroy him before he can finish the job? And does he want to, once the identity of the vampire is revealed?
1. As He Comes

Okay, okay, I'm stupid. I've been writing this because it's been such a good, all-consuming idea it won't leave me alone even when I'm asleep. So, I'm trying to appease the gods of fanfiction by posting just ONE chapter before I update my MoonChild or LotR fics. Enjoy!

P.S. No, this is NOT a Mary-Sue. Maybe a Mommy-Sue.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Strength and Weakness**

(Post Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust)

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_The outskirts of a small frontier town, 120 miles outside of Bremmen territory_

_6a.m._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

'Perfect. Only two miles out and the sun blazes forth.' The young-looking man on the back of a cyborg horse kept his head level, making sure the wide brim of his hat was keeping the sun off of his pale skin.

He was covered from head to toe in black, save for his hands and face, the tall, lithe body encased entirely in black metal armor. Two wicked-looking points rose from the plating atop his shoulders, and below that a tan-lined black cape streamed over the back of the horse, moving in the wind as though it were alive. A sparkling blue pendant hung at the man's breast, and the color merely magnified the deep navy of his eyes, (what could be seen of them from under the hat.) A longsword lay across his back, and his dark chestnut mane flowed in waves over the sheath, hanging nearly to his waist.

As harsh as his countenance may have been, the surroundings were far beyond even that: the red sand and withered roots scattered across the desert stretched as far as as he could see, tall, jagged mountains gating them in on both sides. The horse gave a computerized whinny, stamping a little and tossing his head. The animal was getting too warm for even its own comfort, despite its technologically enhanced capabilities. The man gave a soft "whoa" and the beast quieted.

"How much longer are you gonna keep this up?" a voice yammered angrily. "If the _horse_ dies, then _you_ sure as heck won't last much longer!"

The man remained silent, a slight tightening of his lips the only indication that he'd heard it. The thing was right, though; this heat would be tough to beat even for a normal human, and if they couldn't, then a half-breed vampire certainly had no chance.

Atop the horse, the man made his decision and spurred the horse into a full gallop. If the animal didn't make it, the least he could do was make sure they _all_ didn't roast to death.

"Oh, well thank you _sooo_ much for worrying about the two of us for once," the voice said sarcastically. "Remind me to send a thank-you note up your wrist."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_The frontier town of Bremmen._

_10:17 p.m._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After a day of long, hard work (at least they liked to think so), the menfolk liked to reward themselves with a good bit of cold brew from Maggie's tavern. A recent bout with some mutant werewolves on the outskirts of town had left them all in good spirits: only one man had been wounded, (superficially,) and they had holed five of the creatures through the heart, chasing the other three off into the hills with a volley.

"Hey, Maggie! G've us another!" one man with a rather large girth shouted from his stool, ale dribbling down his chin. "We deserve somethin' ta wet our throats tonight!"

Maggie, a plump, strawberry-blond woman in her mid-forties, rolled her eyes and slid him another ale, chuckling lightly at the grin on his face. The group of back-water cowboys laughed and cheered the next round, causing a jovial racket, and Maggie went back to polishing glasses.

"Hey, I heard that sometimes if you send their henchman packin', the Nobles might even leave of their own volition," one stubbly-faced man commented, raising an eyebrow conspiratorially. "we may not even hafta use the mayor's hired hand after all.

"Wouldn't that be a gas," sighed a younger dark-haired man, adjusting his hat. "Those hunters are damned expensive. Every chunk'd be out of our paychecks." A bright gold star shone on his breast, twinkling in the low yellow light of the tavern lamps. Davis, the sheriff, got paid as little as anyone in Bremmen, so the other men sighed sympathetically and raised their glasses to his statement.

"But hell, you know how hunters can be," said a bearded man with a yellow scarf and sandy brown hair. "Those bastards can ask any price and you can't refuse. It's either their will, or annihilation at the hands of a noble, and that ain't much of a choice. Not after what happened to my Delilah," he muttered.

The mood was dampened slightly.

The man, Kerry, had been unlucky enough to be on night patrol, leaving his young wife unprotected at their house. She'd been taken, changed, and finally shot to death by Kerry himself when the new monster had come after him. He'd never been the same since the villagers found him sitting on the floor in his own house, a warm gun in his hand, a shriveled corpse in Delilah's dress lying there with five holes in its chest-- and two smaller ones in its neck.

Kerry sat there staring into his ale, hand tightening on his mug, remembering how the hunter they'd hired merely shrugged, saying that he couldn't work for such a small price. They'd only been able to scrape together a few million from raised taxes and severe pay cuts, and they'd almost been starving themselves.

"Well, for all our sakes I hope that Noble takes a hint and finds some other town to screw with," Davis grumbled.

"Hey, after tonight's showdown maybe he will."

"Yeah, come on you guys, this is supposed to be a celebration!"

"Y-yeah, jus' keep drinkin'. You'll feel better aft'r a couple more," slurred an extremely inebriated man slumped in his stool.

"What, like you Vince?"

Hearty laughter and sniggering lightened things by a few notches. "Hey Maggie, keep 'm coming!" someone shouted.

"Yeah yeah, I hear ya--"

A gale of wind blew out the lamp at the front gate, making a few of the patrons look up from their cards and ale. There was an unsettling gap in conversation before everyone tried to keep things cheerful, clinking mugs of ale, happily and honestly cheating in their hands. Maggie looked out of the window just in time to see a wisp of blackness escape her vision, and a glance to the left was all that let her see what was beyond the door before it came through.

A dark shape came forward and parted the two saloon-style doors with one gauntleted hand. The squeak of the hinges made everyone look up--

...and the entire tavern went silent.

The newcomer was tall, cloaked in black and his brow was hidden beneath a wide brimmed hat. The clink of armor told much, as did the handle of a sword poking up over his shoulder. Davis felt himself shiver involuntarily as the tall, vague figure walked smoothly to the bartender, his booted footfalls merely making a light tap on the wooden floor as he approached the counter. He requested something too soft to be heard, and the man behind the bar supplied the key to an inn room upstairs with shaking hands.

"W-we uh... take payment up front," he told him tremulously.

"How much?" the tall man asked quietly. His manner was nothing more or less than courteous.

The bartender quoted a price and the stranger's hand slid beneath the folds of his cloak, coming up only with the requested coin, much to everyone's relief, and he took the key, pocketing it without so much as a jingle. His dark cloak whispered gently as he turned and walked down the aisle to a booth in the back, taking his seat and propping up his sword against the side of the bench.

The cowboys made a half-hearted attempt to go about their business, but most had their eyes trained on this man, this one who _had_ to be a hunter. Maggie came up to the table, racked with tremors, but she at least managed to keep her voice steady: "What'll it be, stranger?"

"An ale, and a bowl of stew," he requested politely.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes. Thank you." The deep voice was reassuring in its calm timber and delicate accent. Maggie left with the order, brushing past Davis, who had risen from his seat and made his way to the hunter's table.

"...Are you the mayor's hired hand...?"

Silence.

"Mind if I sit down?" A pale hand moved, indicating he should sit across from him in the booth. "Thanks."

The sheriff set his gun on the table, leaning back in the seat with one arm draped across the back, eyeing him coolly.

"My name's Davis. I'm in charge of law enforcement in these parts, so while you're here doing your job I'd appreciate it if you'd report to me on all your actions."

Silence.

Davis' eyes narrowed. "You got a name, hunter?"

"...D," came the curt reply.

"D, huh. Just 'D'?" Silence. "Well, I know a little about your reputation. I gotta say, if half the rumors are true I'll be impressed," Davis told him carefully, cocking his head to the side. "Can't say I relish not knowing what you even look like. Care to take the hat off, pal? The cape would be nice too, but somehow I don't think you'll settle for more than the hat."

Silence.

Finally: "...I'd prefer to leave them on. Thank you."

Maggie came back down the aisle with the requested ale and a steaming bowl of beef stew, setting them on the table as Davis spoke, coldly. "Let me rephrase. I'm going to have to ask you to remove your hat, mister. _Now._"

Silence.

Maggie had just placed the stew onto the table, and it was a good thing too: if she had waited she probably would have dropped the bowl onto the floor. D's hand went slowly to the rim of his hat and placed it softly on the table, revealing his face in the light as he lifted his head.

Quite a few eyes went wide.

He was handsome. No, he was beautiful, almost effeminate, and couldn't have been older than twenty. His skin was milk-pale, eyes glittering like blue diamonds from beneath dark lashes and half-closed lids. His hair was a silken, dark chestnut mane tumbling in waves around his face and back, and a delicate white neck slid smoothly beneath an ink-black collar of metal plating, like the rest of him. His were perfect, aristocratic features; mask-like, and it made him seem almost like a crafted, porcelain doll.

Davis' jaw-- and Maggie's-- were practically touching the floor.

D raised a smooth eyebrow and the two of them shut their gaping maws. "Satisfied?" D inquired softly.

"Uh... yeah... sorry."

D replaced his hat atop his head as Maggie scurried back behind the counter, then reached for the spoon and began ingesting the soup with very proper table manners. The sheriff was shocked into silence for about half the bowl.

Finally, the hunter replaced the utensil on the table and spoke. "I would like to be briefed on the situation."

Davis looked at D. "The mayor said he'd go over the job with you in the morning. He wants you in his office at City Hall."

"Fine," D agreed softly, tidying up the booth by leaving his used silverware, napkin and cup in the empty bowl, so that Maggie would have only one piece of china to pick up. "I shall retire." The hunter rose gracefully, simultaneously retrieving his sword and laying a few coins on the table. All eyes were on D as he leisurely ascended the staircase to his room.

At the click of a lock two stories up, everyone began to chatter instantly.

Davis sighed, relieving the breath he'd been holding so tightly. "Whew. Well, whadda ya make of that?"

Maggie was still staring after where the hunter had disappeared. "I've heard things... stories that'd make your flesh crawl," she murmured. "They say he can beat the Nobles 'cause he's part one himself."

The entire tavern, thirty or so men, looked up in synch. "What'd you say?" Davis said sharply.

"Oh it's only rumors," Maggie snapped. "Anytime somebody's got a special skill or talent, folks go chalking it up to Noble heritage."

"Yeah, remember the Callahans last year, causing all that trouble 'cause they thought the Simons were possessed and stealing their cattle?"

The menfolk started in on another bout of conversation and Maggie let out an internal sigh of relief. Because they had been so stunned at the hunter's seeming youth and astounding beauty, they had failed to notice what Maggie had been close enough to see: the lock of hair that had moved as he'd replaced his hat, momentarily revealing a pointed ear.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Well, they took _that_ well. And I'm surprised you actually listened to the guy about your hat. He was practically in a coma." D ignored the demonic voice emanating from his palm, setting the last piece of armour in its place atop the table. "I wonder if he'll start you a cult of followers simply for your looks."

Beneath the black casing, the clothing he wore was as antique as D himself, but extremely well-preserved: a white poet's shirt with ruffled lace at the throat, wrapped forearms, a blue taffeta vest, and a pair of form-fitting black trousers with his usual boots. Most nights he didn't bother to strip; it took him too long to reassemble the facade. But tonight, he had lost much energy just keeping up the pretense of infallibility. The heat had drained him severely, and he was sure that the horse had died shortly after he'd left it in the stable. He'd have to dispose of the remains in the morning.

"Which won't be any easier thanks to you. You could have drained him and gotten some strength back, you know," the parasite complained.

D didn't bother replying. He knew the creature was well aware of what finding a drained horse would do to the masses: people panicking left and right, crying Noble, automatically looking for someone to blame.

He sat softly on the edge of the bed, removing his hat and setting it next to the suit of armour on the table. His hair poured over his shoulders and down the back of his vest, making an ethereal picture. The moon had risen, poking up just visible over the mountains of clouds filling the sky: nearly full. It's light bathed his pale face, lighting his eyes and making the pendant at his breast glow a soft blue in its nest of lace. He fingered it gently. He wasn't really fond of being fatigued on nights like these; it made him far too sentimental.

A knock at the door made him look 'round. He had been so absorbed in thought, he hadn't even noticed the approach of the tavern woman. "Come in."

Maggie very quietly and nervously, opened the door and stuck her head in, bearing towels and a wash bowl. For a moment she was completely captured byt the storybook figure that sat before her in the moonlight, then she cleared her throat and managed to relay her purpose: "'M terribly sorry to be a bother, but, I realized you might want to wash up after such a long ride. I brought some water, and--" she gestured at the towels.

He nodded. "Thank you."

Maggie put the items on the small desk in the corner, folding the linens neatly and bowed her way out, feeling somewhat obligated for disturbing him. "'M terribly sorry."

He inclined his head towards her. Just before the door shut, he called out softly, "Miss?"

She looked at him blankly, her hand on the doorknob. She was near fifty; no one had called her "miss" in quite a long time.

"I felt I should inform you, I will not be awake early, so do not trouble yourself with breakfast, or waiting upon me. My horse is in the stable, but he has died, so do not be alarmed when you see him. I will see to him in the morning."

Maggie looked completely shocked, but managed to nod. "Uh-- yes, master hunter."

"D is fine."

She blushed, bowing in acknowledgment and quietly shut the door. She went back downstairs, closed up shop, and made her way into the back room that was her apartment. Later, after she'd put on her nightshift and washed, crawling into bed next to her young daughter, she realized just how tired he'd looked, and how sad. Deep blue eyes followed her into her dreams, along with their overwhelming sorrow.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o


	2. Breaching Limitations

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Two:**

**Breaching Limitation**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Morning brought another fierce wave of heat and sun, but more, it brought on wave after wave of gossip. The people of Bremmen usually woke early to finish chores that involved heavy labor while it was still cool with the chill brought on by night, (though never before sunrise,) and like most people they kept themselves from the tedium of that work by chatting. The main square was full of people: women with baskets of linen and food, men with carts of supplies or building materials, and a few children who had followed their mothers to market.

By exactly eight o'clock in the morning, the entire town of Bremmen was privy to any conversation or rumor the mysterious hunter had ever had attached to him. D was the talk of the town, and he wasn't even awake yet.

The ladies had already gathered in the local general store to discuss the new arrival. A young woman in a gingham dress begged her mother with stars in her eyes: "Momma, is it true he's a vampire hunter? Does he really--?"

"Now don't talk about that, Petunia. It's better not to get involved in these sort of things." Her mother, a heavyset brunette with her hair in a tight bun addressed the girl sharply, severe disapproval in her tone. "If he's a vampire hunter it means we should stay out of his way until he leaves."

"I hear he's real handsome, too," the girl couldn't resist adding.

Her mother bristled. "Handsome he may be, but I heard he was involved in that business in Luceria, and that ain't nothing to be getting yourself into unless you don't care about your life or your reputation."

Petunia didn't look deterred in the least.

"Well, maybe he's just that sure of himself, Mary Lynn," another woman in her thirties chimed in, her flaming red hair folded neatly into braid as thin as she was. "I heard he killed four vampires on his own back in that town across the western border."

"Now don't you start, Helen. That type is not someone you want to associate yourself with, let alone settle down with," Mary Lynn eyed her daughter meaningfully. "Now, hand me those bolts of cloth so we can pay."

Only a few doors down the story was no different. The blacksmith in his shop was conversing with the stable hand who was currently his apprentice, prattling on over the same subject. Heat sizzled the air in front of them as the man swarthy man worked out a metal bar into a more appealing shape, the fire singeing their faces and filling the whole barn with floating ash and bits of straw. His boy watched him work with sparks and fascination in his eyes, a very large leather glove sliding off his hand every two seconds. The man struck the bar with a huge hammer making the boy flinch as he spoke to him:

"Boy, did you see the look-- (BANG)-- he gave th' sheriff?" he drawled. "That 'z-- (BANG)-- far too unnatural for me. Looks like a woman, he's so slight, but then-- (BANG)-- feral. I ain't never seen a stare like that since the Noble--" He eyed his handiwork with approval. "Hmm. Watch your hands there, it's hot--"

The brown-haired child barely made it before the hot iron burned his wrist. "_Ah!_ Do you think he's a...a vampire too, sir? Could he be--? Could he really be a--"

The blacksmith held up a hand. "Oh, don't go thinkin' too much about that. The less involved you are, the less trouble comes your way when the shit hits the fan. Grab the end there, boy! Use the glove, it's cooling--"

Even further down at the inn, a pair of cowboys were huddled over their drinks in Maggie's dusty bar, faces red with sun and alcohol, pistols on the counter. The topic was no different, suspicion and wariness lining their voices. "'M telling you, Ric, the hunters are just as bad as the Nobles. You can't trust 'm, you can't rely on 'm..." the first man muttered. "If they decide they need more money for the job, or that the stakes are too high-- Maggie, gimme another."

"I hear he's from the outer territories, or something like that," his companion, a lithe, denim-clad young man with black hair commented lightly, sipping from his mug.

Maggie slid another ale down the man's way, listening distractedly as she cleaned a glass. A strange voice, or so she thought, had echoed after her as she'd left D's room last night, but she'd decided it must've been coming from downstairs where a few drunks were still littering the stools. This decision hadn't stopped her from dwelling on him, though. Apparently the rest of the town felt the same way, as she was hearing it from most of her customers.

"It's a damned hazard, Ric, I'm tellin' ya," the man muttered over his ale, his short, brown beard nearly dipping into the mug. The brim of his cowboy hat covered his eyes as he spoke. "You give 'em 'n inch, they walk all over you. I say we run th' bastard out of town now, before anythin' else happens."

"Lennie, c'mon, he's the best in the north and western territories, or so they say," Ric admonished him. "Give 'm a break. He may very well rid us of the real problem."

"I'll tell ya what the real problem is," Lennie snapped. "The real problem is people who think they c'n take what they want and not give a damn about common folk. A man's gotta look after his own, you know what 'm sayin'?" His eyes were grim and shining with alcohol-induced bitterness. "I say we do him now and get the 'real problem' outa the way."

"You'll do no such thing," Maggie said sharply. The man stared at her as though he hadn't noticed she was there, startled by the loud reply. "This is my inn and I decide who stays and goes," she spat at him. "If he can help us get shet of the damned Nobles who steal our children, kill our cattle, ruin our lives-- I say he stays as long as he wants."

The man sneered at her, as though disappointed, and swiveled on his stool, heading drunkenly for the door.

Maggie merely sneered back.

_That's it, go on, get out of here. You'll probably pass out and die from drinking in this heat._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Heat.

Last night had been so cool and comforting D had fallen right asleep, with the window wide open. Now, that sleep was threatening him; his vampiric half was so overcome with the heat that he'd never woken. It was well past ten, nearing eleven, and the sun was blinding. Sweat was pouring off of his cheeks and brow, and he burned with a fire that came from both inside and out. He was starting to squirm atop the sheets; the dhampire was well past discomfort.

"You fool, wake up! The window-- Wake_ up_, stupid!"

The parasite had been trying to wake D since eight, to get him to close the drapes and get to the cellar, but he was practically in a coma. Soon the sun would reach its peak, and the temperature was still rising. D's breath was labored, and what little that had been left of his energy after the ride into town had been drained keeping his body temperature down. The parasite was beginning to panic.

"Okay, D, I know I haven't been all that supportive, and that you hate me, but don't die just to spite me! WAKE _UP!_"

No answer. He was completely unconscious, and no amount of small-talk was going to wake him. Their mental connection was down, which meant he was in a critical state, and if somebody didn't get him out of the sun soon--

Knock knock. "E-excuse me. Mister D, sir?"

_THANK you! _ If he'd had lungs, the demon would have sighed with relief: Maggie's ten year old daughter, Kelly, had come up to check on the man, bringing with her a small plate of food and a cloth napkin. She was a wide-eyed, tow-headed youngster, sturdy but still slight of frame. She stuck her head in shyly, shuffling her feet as though unsure of whether or not she should come in.

"I-I brought some lunch," Kelly murmured. "Momma said you didn't want breakfast, but she thought you might be hungry now." Up to this point she'd kept her head down, afraid of his response, but after no reply save for heavy breathing, her blue eyes lifted to the man on the bed.

"Mister-- D?"

Clearly, something was very wrong.

The hunter's cheeks were flushed, and he was practically swimming in sweat, pieces of dark, wavy hair plastered to his neck and forehead. The clothes he wore were not nightwear, so he must have been in them all night, and his breath was so strained she could see his chest shudder as he exhaled, a sword still clutched in one hand. D moaned and twisted weakly to one side, startling Kelly out of her paralysis.

The girl shrieked a little, nearly dropping the food, and ran back downstairs to get her mother.

_That's it, you slip of a girl, go get mommy. She'll be able to wake him, _the parasite harrumphed. He was never going to let D forget this one. Heat syndrome: yet another example of why the hunter had to stop over-taxing himself. _I tell you, you idiot, one of these days I'm gonna be honest with you and give you the good, overly-emotional scolding you deserve. Ice cube,_ he thought, completely livid.

Although, at that moment, "ice cube" is all but what described D. The entity was feeling the boiling heat even from the wrist he lived in, almost hurting. He could only hope that dratted girl got back before he burst into flames or something. _That_ would certainly make an impression in a town like this.

"Mister D!" Maggie came stumbling up the stairs, nearly tripping over the hem of her skirts in her hasty entrance. "D?"

Maggie could see what damage the heat was doing to the dhampire, and if they didn't do something quick, any chance of exterminating that Noble was out. "Kelly, get some cold water and some washcloths, right now! Hurry up, child!" she snapped. Kelly nodded so hard her hair fell out of its ponytail and completely into her face. She tore downstairs so fast her dress might've torn in the wind.

"Mister D? D, can you hear me?" No answer. Maggie cursed under her breath. _Perfect. Just perfect._

With a grunt of exertion the woman took hold of his arm, prepared to pull him up onto her shoulder and carry him down to the cellar. She put a hand on the sword still slung across his chest in an effort to push it away--

--and D's eyes snapped open.

Maggie nearly screamed with the suddenness of it, but caught herself just in time. "_OH_-- Mister D?" she sighed shakily. "Are you all right?"

The beautiful dhampire didn't answer right away. His breath was ragged as he surveyed his surroundings-- the inn's room, the window, the bed he now lay in, the middle-aged woman in front of him... His vampiric half had put him under so deeply that he'd almost stopped breathing, and now the human part of him was catching up.

"I--" Blue gems studied Maggie's face from shadowed lids as though trying to figure out if he _was_ all right or not, and the answer lay somewhere in her countenance. "--I am... fine."

Maggie snorted inwardly._ Like hell._ "You look terrible. I think it'd be best if we got you someplace cooler. I mean," she said quickly, "this heat wave is enough to do anybody in."

D watched her intently, realizing what lay so openly in her eyes:

_She knows._

Maggie fidgeted uncomfortably under his piercing gaze. "W-well, um... let's get you downstairs," she offered.

He nodded, sitting up tremulously as his body reminded him just how weak he was. "Thank you."

At first, Maggie just stared as the hunter rose fluidly from the bed, a regal bearing still surrounding him like a mist.

Then his legs buckled slightly.

"Look out--" She moved to put a hand on D's shoulder and he stopped her with a blank, fleeting look.

The hunter rose, taking his sword with him and walked calmly from the room down the flight of stairs, practically startling Kelly into hysteria as she came back up with the water and washcloths. Mother and child stood staring in confusion as the once-stricken man stepped serenely down the stairwell and out of sight.

Maggie blinked at her daughter. "Well, what was that all about?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"'Oh no', you said, 'it'll be fine', you said. 'Don't worry about me, I'm only the son of the King of Vampires, don't trouble yourself about the sun--'"

"Watch your tongue," D gritted.

The parasite shut its mouth, the fatal edge in D's tone supporting what he already knew. D was extremely weak, and the taunt about his father was hitting him harder than it usually would. He had overstepped his boundaries.

D slid down the cellar wall to the cool dirt floor beneath the stairs, sucking in as much air as his lungs would hold. As soon as he'd shut the cellar door his legs had nearly given out, and now the floor was so comfortable he felt as if he'd never move again.

"Don't think that way," the parasite warned. "People your age start thinking like that and they end up going to sleep for a few hundred years. You've got a job to do here first, pal."

As much as the hunter wanted to tell it to be quiet, it did have a point. There was a story of a dhampire, a vampire hunter like himself, who went to sleep by choice to rid the world of his presence, and he didn't wake for nearly twelve-hundred years. Rumor had it he was still sleeping.

D sighed and reached for a shovel that was leaning against the wall near the stairs. Time to make his bed.

Literally.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Maggie realized that in a few hours it would time to open up shop, so she decided to leave her newest wayward customer to himself and get ready. The glasses and silverware had all been polished to a keen shine, the soups and stews were bubbling away on the stove, the bread was nearly finished by the smell of it, and her cook had just begun the pastries. All the ales were stocked and ready for use, and like clockwork, at sundown the men poured in for their evening pick-me-up.

Or, as usually happened, their evening knock-me-down.

"More on this side, Mags!"

"Y-yeah, givus 'n 'nother!"

"Coming up," she rolled her eyes. _Those two come in every night off the fields and got pretty much smashed. Why do I always get stuck with the drunks? Sure, this bunch manages to pay for all the repairs, but the work I end up having to do when they leave... Oh for--_

"Get down from there! I won't clean up no bodies from my floor, you hear me!"

"Yes'm!"

By nine p.m. all the men had come in, and practically the whole tavern was full of at least slightly drunken cowboys and patrolmen. Poor Kelly had her hands full, (literally), and her two serving girls were taking care of roughly half the room each. It didn't really matter though; all anyone wanted was to get good and drunk with whatever was on tap, so they simply kept the refills coming.

"Ma'am, they're running out in the back," a thin girl with slightly horselike teeth came tittering. "We need more ale; they drink like fish."

"Tell Rita to get two barrels from below," Maggie ordered, pouring herself a large ale as one of the men promptly performed an act all over the table that, had there been one, would have ruined the table cloth. "Make sure she knows I don't mean the gun. And get a mop, would you?" she sighed.

_One thing that probably keeps makin' me think of him is that he's the only gentleman in this stinkin' territory. At least he doesn't drink..._ Abruptly she remembered that D had gone down into the cellar around noon. _I wonder if he needs someone to go get--_

Maggie's eyes went wide.

Her two servers had just gone into the cellar.

_Oh, no._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Cool, dark earth. The softness of it was actually surprising, he guessed they had enough topsoil here to grow some things, considering the vegetables he'd smelled earlier, and the nice, semi-smooth texture of the ground encompassing his body. D also guessed from the nearly cold feel of the water in the soil that it was probably around ten, not yet midnight. His sword was laid across his chest where he could easily reach it, should he awake to a threatening situation.

"Come on, ya lazy bum. If you don't get up I'll start talking about your teenage years, and I mean it." The threat was one of his useless reasons to talk; nobody would hear those stories except D, as the parasite couldn't talk around clients, and it knew it.

There was a slight stiffness that testified how drained D had been before his sleep, but other than that, he felt fine. Rising was now necessary; he couldn't fall back asleep anyway.

D started to rise from beneath the mound of dirt just as a pair of rapid footsteps came echoing down the stairwell. The hunter looked up just as two serving girls entered the room.

There was a moment of silence as their eyes went wide when they saw him: a beautiful young man with a practically waist-length crop of hair, a gothic waistcoat, a poet's shirt with a ruffled lace collar, glowing blue eyes, milk-white skin and a sword, buried up to his waist in a grave of topsoil.

The reaction was instantaneous.

A horrid shriek from emerged from both girls' throats and a crash at their feet as one dropped the mugs she'd been carrying. D winced inwardly; he knew they were going to cause a scene, and that must have been heard upstairs as about a dozen chairs from the main floor scraped noisily against the floorboards.

The two girls were huddled in a corner on their knees, having tripped in their fright and clung to each other for dear life as D stood up and brushed himself off. There was a clicking of guns from their holsters and pounding footsteps as the patrolmen who were still semi-sober came crashing down into the cellar.

"_Rita, what the hell is--_"

All of them stopped in their tracks the moment they came face to face with D. The hunter merely eyed them civilly.

"Uhm... Rita, what happened down here?" the lead man with a large mustache, Mackwell, questioned the heftier of the two girls, not taking his eyes off of D, nor his hand off of his pistol.

"They were merely startled by my presence here," D supplied smoothly. "I apologize for the disruption." With that, the tall man strode with liquid grace to the stairs, parting the men behind their leader with nothing but his presence. He disappeared upstairs into his room, the townsmen watching him carefully as he casually entered the necessary halls and shut the door behind him.

Mackwell's gaze, however, was focused not on the doorway the hunter had left by, nor on the two girls as they picked themselves up and ran out of the room. He was staring intently at a dark spot beneath the stairs, hidden in the deepest shadows. "Hey. Kerry."

Kerry came forward at the sound of his name. "Man, I don't know what to make a' that guy. He gives me the..." Kerry's voice trailed off when he caught sight of what Mackwell was looking at so intently:

Beneath the stairwell was an oblong hole, about six feet long and three feet deep, with a shovel lying at one end. The dirt was scattered at one end, as though it'd fallen off of something coming out of the ground.

Mackwell and Kerry locked eyes, their glares laden with very grim understanding.

Their new guest apparently had more to him than the average hired-hand.

"Someone's gotta tell the Sheriff," Mackwell muttered in a low voice, so as not to let the others hear. "Let's go."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Okay, maybe one-- ONE more chapter. I like this.

Plus, I just started waitressing at a hibachi place, so I know what it's like to be overcrowded. Never had a guy puke at my table though, I'm sure I just jinxed it.

Ta! Wish me a Happy 19th Birthday!

...Okay maybe two.


	3. Mounting Suspicion

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Three:**

**Mounting Suspicion**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The barn was filled with a horrid stench coming from the foremost stall. The stablehands were recoiling from the scene before them, washcloths over their noses, edging away from the gate the hunter had entered.

D's horse, (what was left of it,) lay on the dirt floor, mainly armour and saddle. One of the perks of cyborg livestock, (or one of the detrimental features, depending on how you looked at it,) was that roughly an hour after death, the animals literally disintegrated into a liquid that could be easily absorbed into the dirt as fertilizer and left the metal armour lighter for easy carrying.

D knelt where his former mount had lain for the past day, ignoring the smell and unfastening the buckle of the saddle. He had no use for the armour, as he had more than enough to buy another horse without bartering the metal plating. Even so, to save the stablehands some trouble, he began disassembling the armour piece by piece and dumped the animal's drinking water over the remains, washing it into the drain in the floor.

The men cringed as D approached, carrying the saddle over his back.

"Keep the armour as payment. I have no use for it," he told them softly.

They managed a swift nod before skittering away to take care of what was left.

D stepped out of the stable into the blinding mid-day sun, heading in the direction of the tavern. This time the heat had lowered to a bearable level, and the hunter had donned his own armour and cape, his ever-present hat shielding the uncovered skin of his face. As many people had flocked to the square as the day before, gathered in the shadows of houses and porches, lining the streets but not daring to emerge into the light as the hunter strode through the town.

Not even a whisper echoed among the townsfolk.

D walked the block and a half to the inn, leaving the foul-smelling saddle outside at the back door. He'd have to clean it later, he knew, but now there were things to do. The usual silence accompanied him as he entered the tavern, but this time he actually stopped to address the patrons.

"What can you tell me about the Nobles?"

Every one of the half-dozen cowboys and guardsmen stared. No one moved.

D's eyes narrowed.

"I cannot kill the vampire if I don't know what I'm looking for."

For a few, long moments, no one answered. A few men were reaching for their pistols at the look the hunter cast upon them. D was about to ask again, his ire growing...

"It's a demon-caller."

D looked over his shoulder to see Maggie, standing firmly behind her bar, strawberry-blonde hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, cleaning yet another glass with a rag from her apron.

He raised an eyebrow. "Demon?"

"Everyone who's tried to stop it just gets killed, or possessed, or turned into a zombie," she continued grimly. "Many of us have had to kill our own after they've been turned. The thing guards itself pretty well; he's got werewolves that patrol the grounds of the castle, and none of us have ever been able to get past the gate before being stopped by something even we don't know about. It plays mind games, turns tricks on people, but we never see it. Most of our patrolmen are killed by werewolves, though, before getting that far."

D turned all the way around to face her. "Has anyone ever seen the Noble?"

"Not many have lived to tell about it," she admitted. "The only way we know what he looks like is a glimpse one night, a flash of his face while he was asleep in his coffin. We had a hunting party that actually found his lair through some underground passages. He's pale, obviously. Pretty face like a woman, with long white-blonde hair and golden eyes. He's had the casket moved now, of course, and we've never gotten any closer than that night," Maggie finished. "He's not been seen since. The only indications that he's still here are the attacks on the town."

D was silent awhile, studying the floorboards while he thought. Then he looked up at Maggie.

"I'll need some supplies," he murmured. "But first, tell me; where is his castle?"

"Up past the foothills in the northern mountains. I can get you a map," she offered.

D nodded. "Thank you. I will be back before dark."

The patrons watched as the tall hunter ducked out of the doorway and back out into the light, his cape floating out into the breeze.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_"WHAT?"_

The great ruckus thundering from the depths of the courthouse made the people in the street jump in surprise.

"'_He can't see me'?_ " Mayor Bityrn exploded. "I told that son of a bitch to be here by ten a.m. _yesterday!_ And now, a day later, he says, 'he can't see me'? I'm_ paying _him,dammit!"

"Technically, _we're_ paying him, sir," Davis said lazily, throwing a dart at the target on the wall. He hit the far edge of the bullseye: a lopsided hit, but still in the center circle.

"Well, yes, but he still has to answer to me!" the short, pudgy official grumbled. "If we can't keep control of our Nobles, at least we can keep control of our hunters!"

Davis merely eyed the target he'd struck. The young sheriff was sprawled out on the mayor's silk couch, his dusty jeans leaving marks on the cushions, cowboy hat pulled low over his face, hands folded behind his head in an extremely relaxed manner. "I don't think you'll get control of that one. He's dangerous, and there's something about him... something I can't quite put my finger on. Besides the obvious, of course," he added.

"Mayor Bityrn?" The mayor looked up from his desk to see two of his bodyguards enter the room, hats held timidly at their chests.

"You had _better_ have good news," he threatened. "I said no visitors, and I meant it!"

The cowboys blanched. "W-well, um... We got two guys here that claim to have some... uh... information... about your hunter."

Mayor Bityrn looked resigned to defeat, sighing deeply. "Very well, let 'em in."

Macwell entered the office, his paunch swelled out with the importance of his mission. He was followed closely by Kerry, who was looking white and slightly shaken. "Mister Mayor," Macwell greeted him.

"Sit down, gentlemen," Bityrn offered them. "Now, what is this information you say you have about my new hired hand?" His fingers tapped impatiently, making a very loud banging as the fat pads of his digits hit the glass covering on the desktop.

"Well sir, yesterday we were in the bar, and there was a commotion from the cellar," Macwell began, sitting tentatively. "We thought some kind of mutant or monster was gettin' our girls, so we went down to see what was wrong, and there was the vampire hunter. He said he'd just scared 'em, but he had a sword in his hand, and when we checked the floor there was a grave, fresh dug, hidden under the stairs."

Bityrn's face froze.

"We think your new man is no man at all," Kerry continued. "You may very well have hired--"

"--the best vampire hunter in the territories?" Bityrn cut him off. "A legend? An invincible fighter who always gets the job done?" The mayor raised an eyebrow conspiratorially. "I know exactly who, and _what_, I've hired, gentlemen."

Both Kerry and Macwell's jaws dropped.

"You... know?"

"Oh yes, I know. There is a great risk in hiring such a man, it's true," he allowed. "But considering the stories following him around, and his reputation according to former clients, he has never failed in killing a vampire. The tales alone might convince the Noble to leave us in peace. This nuisance has got to go, gentlemen, and by any means necessary. Besides," the mayor added, "there's more than a good chance that these two may end up killing _each other_."

Bityrn leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about the identity-- or species-- of our new arrival. Mass panic would only make things worse. Don't you agree?"

The two men barely managed a nod before the plump official was ushering them out the door. "Wonderful! Now then, please go and and bring him here, would you? I need to send him off with the information on our problem."

"But-- sir--!" Macwell tried to cut in.

"We can't have him here!" Kerry protested. "You've just invited more of them into the heart of the town!"

"What if he demands payment of another kind?" Macwell suggested warily. "Like our citizens? Our families? What if he decides to _join_ the Nobles? If he's so invincible, then what's to stop him from finishing us off after the job's done?"

"Oh, posh." The mayor waved a hand, shrugging them off. "If he had wanted that, he would have wiped out all the other towns he'd profited off of. Now go and bring him; I'll talk to you fellas later tonight."

Kerry and Macwell were literally pushed out the door and turned around in protest-- just in time to have the door slam shut in their faces.

Back on the couch, Davis smirked as he heard the mayor sigh against the door frame. "Too much for you already, hm?" he questioned, eyes closed. "And here it was going to be so easy to keep him a secret."

"You keep your mouth shut. I don't need it from you too," Mayor Bitryn snapped, wiping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. He plopped himself down into a leather chair behind the desk. "_Ahhh_... I tell you, the hunters are nearly as much trouble as the Nobles."

"Really?" Davis asked sardonically from beneath his hat. "And how are you going to control him if he does change his mind?"

Bityrn sniffed at the young sheriff haughtily. "I'll just hire another hunter to kill them both," he scoffed.

Davis sat up and spit a man's height into the spittoon. "Really...?" he trailed off. "I thought you said he was the best."

With a sudden deft flick of his wrist he threw another dart and nailed the bullseye dead center: a perfect hit.

The mayor was silent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The castle was nestled between two mountains, properly hidden by mist and rejecting all sunlight. The rocky terrain seemed to be growing colder, and unlike the rest of the desert, the stone surrounding the castle's mountains was a dead, dull grey, rejecting any hint of color even in the sunset. Sundown was fast approaching, and from the town it took roughly two hours on horseback to reach, at least for the average man.

D and the Noble, however, were neither of them "average men".

He had left without a horse, as the breeder/manufacturer was closed for the day, but he still made it in roughly a half an hour to the foothills. It was difficult to sense where the vampiric aura was coming from, as in this particular area there were thousands of different tracks and residue indicating werewolves, monsters, zombies and crossbreeds, but Maggie's map had helped. The spots marked were mainly where other men had perished, he noted wryly.

"The thing is, I don't sense any mutants," the parasite mumbled. "If he's got 'em, he isn't using 'em."

"Give me a location." D pressed his palm to the rock beside the gate.

"...Hmm... uh huhh..." The was the usual bit of humming and hawing before the thing answered him. "He's... hmm, that's strange... He's either in the main tower, or--"

"Or...?"

D tone was very-- _very_-- faintly coloured with surprise.

"--or he's in the dungeons. I can't explain it, but I'm sensing two aura signatures in two different places," the parasite complained. "He may be using simultaneous broadcasts of himself; shadows. That would explain the phantom and the mind games the woman mentioned."

D pondered this very carefully. If he truly was a demon-caller, then surprise was not going to be on their side. He had probably already sensed their presence, if he was awake.

"Look out for trap spells," he said quietly, beginning the climb up the field of boulders littering the entire hillside, sword in hand.

The castle, unlike most, was not merely openly gothic architecture and theatrical broken crosses meant to scare away visitors. This thing looked deliberately shielded from possible warfare. The piles of boulders ensured no one could approach on horseback, and the gates were too high to be scaled, with sharp metal thorns woven throughout the bars. D could sense magic attached to them as well, so if one wished to enter, the gates were the best choice. Inside and outside of the gates were moats, filled with something that was_ not_ water. D guessed from the smell that it was probably corrosive.

On top of this, there was a sort of honeycomb of tunnels carved into the rock. They were obviously clawed into the stone by something with very sharp large talons, perhaps werewolves, and served as a small sign that this vampire wasn't entirely beyond using intimidation. The deep slashes were very visible, even from a distance.

"Something's coming from the tunnels," the parasite interrupted. "You can hear it." It wasn't a question.

D could indeed hear the sound. It was howling, with an undertone of scrabbling claws as something-- many somethings-- began to wake, and run.

The direction of their stampede was also quite clear.

"They're all going to Bremmen," D said swiftly, sheathing his sword and whipping around one-hundred and eighty degrees to run just as swiftly back towards the town, his cape flying in the wind his body created. Inwardly he cursed himself; he should have known there would be an attack right now. The vampire was trying to distract him from the castle, and even though it was painfully obvious, he had no choice: he _had_ to go back to protect the town.

D disappeared into the hills, his anger building, hoping his calculations of time and paths were correct and that he would arrive before the werewolf pack descended upon the square.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o


	4. Keeping Vigils

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Four:**

**Keeping Vigils**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

There was a great hush over the town, with dread permeating every inch of the misted streets. Nothing was making a sound, and most people were locked in their houses with barred windows and barricaded doors. Only the men were outside, packing rifles and various other long range guns. One man had even brought a small laser cannon, and he had it propped against his shoulder in a manner that merely spoke of his inexperience with the weapon.

"Alright guys, keep 'em as far from town as you can, and leave as much room between you as you can," yelled Sheriff Davis, cocking his gun. "Keep the lights down! No more talk from here on in."

Their group was fairly small, with only six groups of ten, and each group was assigned to a different area, so they were going to be split up a good distance from each other. Everyone was eyeing each other with apprehension, wondering who was going first.

"Kerry, you and your team come with me," Davis ordered. "Macwell, you go with your team to the front. We're going to cover you."

Macwell nodded and motioned for his men to follow him.

As soon as they'd taken their first step forward, a chilling howl ripped through the air, then another, then another, more and more until the sound was almost ground-shaking.

"Oh, shit," one man murmured.

"They're everywhere," stammered another.

"Keep moving!" Davis shouted, kicking one man's backside and practically throwing him forward toward the entrance to the town.

The hills loomed before them, rumbling with the sound of running feet and grinding, animalistic cries. The torches only let them see a few meters in front of them, and what could be seen of the towering rock by moonlight was rough and sketchy from the torchlight blinding them all. They kept their hats tilted and squinted into the pitch blackness, trying to make out the horde of creatures coming towards them.

There was a sudden shrieking and a horrid thunk of flesh hitting ground on their left.

"They're eating the herd!"

"They've broken through the barriers!" Another cry of a dying calf punctuated the man's shout.

"Places! Fire at will!" Davis yelled, giving the word.

Guns went off from every direction. There were a few snarling shrieks of pain and whimpers from the few animals that were hit, but there was no change in the sound of scraping claws, thundering paws and clacking teeth. It was like shooting blindfolded; there was no way they could see the pack stampeding down from the hillside.

_We are _so_ dead_, Davis thought grimly as he raised his firearm and aimed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Maggie watched from her third-story window, cradling her daughter with her head beneath her chin. They'd heard the howling half an hour ago, and it was steadily coming closer. She'd already gotten the family rifle out of the closet and set it in the hole in the window barricades, but they both knew it was really just to settle their own rattled nerves. If those creatures broke the town's defenses, a little rifle-fire was not going to do any good.

"Momma, is Mr. D gonna be here?" came a sniffling voice from under her arm.

"It'll be all right, dear," she soothed the girl, kissing the top of her head and rocking back and forth in her chair. "D said he'd be back before nightfall, so all that means is he's a little late. He'll be here soon." _He'd better be, or we're really in trouble, _she thought wryly.

"Get 'em back! Push 'em away from the doors!" came a shout from across the square.

_"AAGH!--_"

"We need another man over here!"

Maggie's heart was in her throat. _Oh no._

They'd breached the entrance.

There was a frantic bit of snarling, screaming and scuffling from below, and they shivered when one man cried out as he died. More of them began screaming, some ordering, some yelling incoherently in fear and pain as they were torn apart--

--then a new kind of scream echoed across the square as one of the wolves fell in a spray of blood, shrieking like the damned.

"Get back! Give him some room!"

"Back away! Back away now!"

"Leave the hunter some room!"

Maggie shifted her daughter to one side and removed the gun to look through the hole. A spot of pitch black darker than night was standing at the breached wall, a flash of white silver gleaming in its hands. On the ground lay a six-foot werewolf in a puddle of blood.

"D..."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The horde was angry now, writhing and seething at the first blood drawn from their own. D was still inwardly cursing the fact that he'd managed to let them lose three men before he could get past the pack to the defense line.

He knew this breed of wolf. These werewolves were an intelligent race, one like that of Barbarois. The difference was that they lived without loyalties save for those of the pack, although if they got hungry enough they would even eat their own.

The throng of wolves drooled and growled angrily, barking and snapping madly as he approached them, but still not daring to cross the opening in the barrier. D stepped leisurely up to the entrance, eyes half closed, sword lowered in one hand as the creatures before him glared and sneered. Still they did not come forward.

He was almost nose to nose with the lead wolf, who stood at least seven feet tall on his hind legs, sporting a deep gash that mutilated his left eye. His fur was rough with age, and yellow eyes gleamed at him with bloodlust in its gaze.

"Who sent you?" D said, so softly that it almost went unheard by the men cowering behind him. His face was expressionless as the werewolf sniffed at him.

"_Humm... _(sniff)" The thing grinned at him. "_You are not one of them, are you hunter?_" the wolf grunted slowly, serrated teeth clicking as he spoke. A purple tongue lolled out of his mouth, and a line of thick drool dropped slowly from his jaw. The sickening smile widened and the wolf took a step forward. "_I've smelled your kind before--_"

Abruptly it froze, as D's sword was at its throat.

"I asked you a question."

The wolf laughed, a deep, groaning sound reminiscent of metal grinding on stone. "_You know we cannot tell,_" it growled, amused.

D had suspected as much. The owner of the clan would have them all killed were they to spill his secrets. D didn't really care at this point either; as long as he killed it, a vampire's name wasn't of much importance to him, unless it gave away its weakness.

"I can kill you all here, or we can settle this peacefully," D offered quietly. "I have no quarrel with you, so long as you leave now and stay away from these people."

The leader again laughed, this time rocking backward with the force of his mirth. "_HAAH HAGH! The man-thing wants us to go,_" he chortled, and the joke was taken up by the entire pack, gruesome, harsh laughter echoing all the way back through unseen wolves in the hills.

The leader looked directly down at him. "_We will not go. We have a task. We need meat, and our master wants the man-things gone,_" he said, saliva dripping from his lips as he spoke. A wicked grin spanned his face.

_"Perhaps you can eat with us, hunter--"_

The creature's words were cut off by the sudden absence of its head.

By the time the wolves had taken up the cry of threat, twenty of them had fallen. The men behind him peering out of the broken barrier were shocked mute as the line of werewolves had diminished beyond the reach of the torchlight. All that remained in sight were halved corpses. More terrified shrieks, yips of pain, and short bellows of agony were still coming from the surprised creatures in the distance as D dispatched them in tens. The singing of his blade could be heard clearly above the row.

A few minutes later, there was a clear, fading rumble of stampeding feet as whatever was left of the pack took to the hills, literally. A few tense moments of silence accompanied the sudden departure as the groups of huddled cowboys awaited a response from the mayor's hired hand.

Crunching gravel the moment before they saw him was the only indication he'd returned as D stepped back through the crumbled wall, showing no sign of fatigue. His longsword was held at his side, and it was dripping with dark red blood, spattering the ground as he walked. His long hair was slightly windblown, hanging gently in his face.

No one said a word as he walked past them, heading up the street toward the inn. He paused when he reached Davis.

"Rebuild the barrier twice as thickly," he murmured. "They probably won't be back, but don't make it easy for them."

He didn't wait for an acknowledgment, flicking the blood off his blade with one swift movement and disappearing into the square with a flicker of his cape, a little under sixty men looking after him in utter amazement.

And fear.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Maggie was a the door in her nightshift before the door opened. D towered over her, bowing slightly in recognition of her presence. "I apologize for my tardiness," he confessed.

She blinked. "Huh?"

"I said before nightfall."

She smiled incredulously. "Mr. D, you did just save us all from an _entire pack of werewolves_," she stressed, still not quite believing that he was apologizing. "If you hadn't come at all-- _then_ I would understand an apology."

Maggie could swear she caught the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

"May I have some cloths, and a basin," he requested, laying his hat on the table and placing the sword next to it as she went behind the bar, lighting a nearby lamp. He took the stool nearest her and unhooked his cape from his shoulders.

"No water? You aren't washing up?" she asked while she readied said items, placing the clean washcloths and basin next to him on the counter.

"One of the men shot me," came the indifferent reply.

She looked up at him sharply and saw no mirth in his eyes as he removed the casings from his right arm. She gasped when she saw it revealed. There was indeed a golf ball-sized hole in his upper arm where a wildly aiming man had struck him between the plating, bleeding profusely down his sleeve and onto the table once the armor was off.

"_D!_"

"It is not serious." He shrugged, which for him meant a slight raising of the shoulders. "I was careless in my approach."

She watched with more than a little apprehension as he placed the basin beneath his arm and removed a dagger from his boot, placing it on the edge of the wound.

"D... y-you aren't going to-- _AH!_"

It must have hurt, but D showed no outward sign of pain as he shoved the tip directly into the gaping hole, digging the bullet out with a wet, sickening pop. Blood began pouring from the wound, plopping into the basin. Maggie felt extraordinarily ill.

D ignored her, going about his business and tying his arm tightly with the washcloth. "I am sorry for the mess," he said quietly, using the other cloth to wipe away a patch of blood from the counter.

"Will you stop that kind of talk?" she scolded him shakily. "You scared the bejeezus out of me! Why didn't you say anything?"

"It will heal within a few days."

Somehow Maggie knew he was right. "Lord," she sighed, running a hand through her auburn hair, "you're enough to give a woman a heart attack."

The hunter merely stared at her blankly.

"Well, drink some water, at least," she ordered him. "You'll heal faster with fluids."

"Thank you." He took the glass and downed it, taking the basin in his other hand. He took the bullet from the inch of blood inside, wrapping it in a washcloth.

"What are you..." she trailed off, understanding lighting her eyes.

Maggie again felt a wave a nausea move in as she watched him bring the basin to his lips. He downed the contents with obvious relish, even distinguishable in his usually stoic exterior. He left the empty basin on the counter, wiping his mouth delicately with a clean cloth.

"I can't afford to waste it," he explained simply.

"Uh-huh." She cleared her throat. "I figured." Her fingers tightly gripped the edge of the bar.

D looked at her with thoughtfully dark eyes. "You have been very kind to me."

"Oh-- hell, it's nothing," Maggie blushed, flustered, "nothing you wouldn't do for me. You're a good man."

He was silent for a while. Finally, he voiced the question that lay between them.

"...Why haven't you told them about me?"

This was a question she had dreaded. "What do you mean?" she tried, trying half-heartedly to sound ignorant, putting the dirty cloth into the basin and taking them both to the kitchen counter to be washed. She could feel his eyes boring into her back.

"..."

"You should probably get some rest," Maggie said shortly, still not turning round. "That arm of yours will need some time to heal."

Surprisingly, that was all. He asked no more of her, and she heard rustling as he gathered up his things under his good arm.

"Goodnight, then," D answered, striding gracefully up the staircase.

"Goodnight."

She sighed as she heard the door shut behind him. In truth, Maggie really didn't know why she trusted him so. Yes, he'd saved them. But he'd also drunk a bowl of blood right in front of her. Her daughter was asleep in the next room, and if he wanted to, he could start feeding off of anyone he wanted. He could wipe them all out as easily as he had those werewolves.

But being able to do something, she rationalized, didn't necessarily mean you _would_ do it. He was a dhampire, yes, but he'd chosen to eradicate the Nobles, had he not? He had taken this job for far less than any other hunter would settle for, and he hadn't taken advantage of any of them. Plus he knew she was aware of his heritage, and he hadn't sworn her to secrecy, or threatened her with death, or turning. He'd merely left her to make her own decision.

And the sadness in his eyes from that night still plagued her. It was amazing; the depth of emotion she'd witnessed, and yet, the resignation to this fate of solitude, the acceptance of this grief... how much could he have been through? How many trials, how many hardships had he faced alone?

Maggie found that she didn't really want to know.

After a short while, the woman leaned over and blew out the lone lamp, leaving the tavern in darkness once more.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The castle drawing room was dark, as always, with a few scant candles lighting the window and the top of an ancient piano. A figure sat in the shadows at the bench, playing a melody that had long been forgotten by anyone besides himself, watching as the candles flickered. A moment later a door opened and in loped a werewolf, enormous and quite feral-looking, but it visibly cowered in fear of the smaller figure before it.

"_M-my lord,_" it rasped, bowing low.

The figure stopped playing. The last chord echoed hauntingly through the high-ceilinged halls, drawing a shiver from the creature with its unpleasant ring.

The figure rose, its black cape sweeping out as he stood and moved away from the bench. "So. This is what you bring me?" a voice asked softly. The wolf cringed as it shoved its face directly in front of his, its sugary tone belying its obvious anger at this failure. "Half of your pack missing, and none of the humans dealt with at all?"

"_W-we tried to kill them, my lord, b-but he-- the hunter--_"

"Insolent fool!" came the deep bellow. "You expect me to forgive your kind for this outrage simply because of a vampire hunter?"

"_No, my l-lord, of course not, but-- this is no-- ordinary h-hunter,_" the creature protested, quivering, covering its face and head with its claws as though this could protect it. "_He is a d-dhampire, my lord, and he is-- very powerful--_"

An eyebrow raised gently in surprise. "A dhampire, you say?"

"_Y-yes, my lord_."

This was an interesting development. Never before had there been a hunter to challenge him when he brought the entire werewolf pack into play. This man had brought them down to half capacity, and to top it off, he was half vampire himself. This was very interesting indeed.

"Leave me. I have much to think about."

The animal bowed and hurriedly left the room, obviously glad to have escaped with its life.

Silently the figure stood at the window, watching as moonlight poured in around him, leaving no shadow where he stood. A few moments passed in stillness, then he touched a panel on the wall that swung an elaborate, ten-foot-tall mirror from the wall, revealing a hidden passage. He descended the stories of stars with ease, emerging in the dungeons.

At the end of the damp stone hall was a single door, and he opened it with a key from his breast pocket, entering the plain stone room as silently as death. In the center of the room was a coffin, ornate in design and gold trimmed with a large crest burned into the lid. It was a dagger, bat winged, with a circle over the spot where the handle formed a gothic cross.

The lamps lit immediately when he touched its center.

"Soon we may have a visitor, my pet. Apparently he's one of you," he remarked conversationally. "Not of as high breeding as you are, but then, who is?" A smile touched bloodless lips. "Who knows, he may even want to wake you. But I can't let him do that now can I?"

The figure stroked the symbol on the casket almost lovingly, then turned toward the door once more, the lamps snuffing out as he left.

"Sleep well, my pet. After all, you're so very good at it."

An amused chuckle turned into a mocking laugh that resounded through the heavy doors.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

WAHA! I UPDATED! DID YOU SEE DID YOU SEE? HAHAHAHAH! xD

(laughs maniacally)

I do believe college has finally driven me round the bend. And I haven't even been at it for a week. Yarg.

Hopefully this proves my dedication to finishing these fics. So WAH!

Reviews make the plot bunny one happy bugger.


	5. Shadows on the Move

Awwwwww! I'm so glad you guys liked this! I was worried I'd simply be lynched for not updating recently...

And hey, which one of you said this was a crossover? Come and see me after class.

And I admit, the piano thing was quite cliche, but you gotta admit it makes a beautiful scene, ne?

Behold: A CHAPTER! WAH!

Funny how actually having homework and other more important things to do makes you write more...

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Five:**

**Shadows on the Move**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

D woke the next morning quite late. The sun was high in the sky again, though thankfully someone had been kind enough to close the curtains while he slept. He knew it must have been Maggie or the girl; anyone other would have woken him.

His hat was on the dresser, and he picked it up on his way out the door.

Today he had to see the mayor. There was something about this situation that bothered him. It was nothing of so much consequence, but a kind of twinge in the back of his mind spoke of unforeseen problems: a threat that had been somehow overlooked. D was well aware of how nonchalant the mayor was acting. He'd not come to see Mayor Bityrn about the job yet, (even though D had obviously been working on it,) but that would have angered most officials to the point of coming after him with gunmen. He even knew where D was staying, and after three whole days and an open attack on the town, he didn't think the mayor's current lack of attention was merely due to pride.

Something was not right.

Once he reached the main floor, all conversation went dead in the tavern. The twelve or so people who had stopped in for lunch and ales were still as he walked past them, and tittered amongst themselves as he went to Maggie behind the counter.

"Well, morning," she greeted him, double-taking when she realized what time it was,"or, good afternoon, rather?" The woman chuckled a bit.

"I need to find the mayor, and Davis."

His tone was ice cold, and Maggie pulled up short.

"What do you need them for?"

D's eyes were fixed on her, waiting for an answer.

"Um, well they... usually are in the dining room at the Town Hall. Davis said he had a meeting with him today," she remembered. Watching his eyes, which were barely visible under his hat, Maggie knew something was bothering him. D wasn't usually this stiff, or this short with questions, at least when he asked her.

He inclined his head. "Thank you." It was almost as though he was trying to avoid meeting her eyes, she thought incredulously.

Walking through the double doors into the sun, D's dark form disappeared into the light, sword strapped firmly to his back.

Every customer breathed a sigh of relief as he left, picking up whatever talk they'd had (about him) before he'd emerged from his room.

Maggie couldn't stop staring after him, though. Something wasn't right with D. _He doesn't usually look that way... Well, it wasn't so different, just... quiet. But he's usually quiet,_ she argued with herself.

_So why does this feel so wrong?_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The hall was white, pristine and well-kept, as opposed to the rather dingy buildings that lay around it. D was in extreme contrast, a pitch black silhouette surrounded by brilliant white as he approached the mayor's office. A few scant paintings and vases on tables lined the hall, but they were as insincere in providing decoration as the mayor was in his love for the townspeople.

D could hear he and Davis speaking to each other, muffled through the door as he neared them:

"...and I don't care how it happens! You fail me like that again and I'll have you discharged!"

"As if you could do it better, old man," came Davis' haughty reply. "And I suppose should the hunter fail at his job you'll have him discharged as well?"

"You listen to me," the mayor growled. "I don't care who you think you are. You cross me again and I'll have him after _you_, you hear me?"

The door was yanked open angrily and Mayor Bityrn found himself staring straight into an armoured chest, Davis bumping into his back. He looked up anxiously, slowly, and met D's steel gaze.

"...Oh."

D looked upon him as one might stare at a cockroach crawling outside their window: indifferent, but obviously not pleased.

"Uhm," the mayor cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie nervously. "Master hunter! W-what can I do for you?"

D remained silent, staring past him at Davis. The sheriff's hand was already on his gun, dark bangs strewn messily in his face, head cocked to one side, grinning openly.

"We need to talk," he murmured. The soft phrase alone was bone-chilling.

D stepped forward slowly, the two men backing away from him, barricaded inside the small office as he closed the door behind them. He kept walking until the mayor fell backward into a chair, staring up at him in a mix of fright and indignance. Davis merely backed off and stood at the window, arms crossed, eyeing the hunter like a meal.

"Why did you hire me?" D said bluntly. "Who put you up to it?"

"What are you talking about?" the mayor blustered. "We hired you to kill a vampire! You were the only one who'd take the job!"

"I know," D interrupted him. "But who told you to hire me?"

"We-- we just heard of you, that's all," Bityrn lied. "Your reputation precedes you--"

D slammed something down onto the desk the mayor was leaning on, right next to Bityrn's face, and he flinched. Closer inspection showed a bullet, bent and used, stained with blood. Davis' grin widened visibly, (even though it was obvious he was rattled,) and the mayor blanched. He looked up into D's cold gaze, trembling.

D's eyes narrowed. He swung an arm up, ignoring the mayor's startled cry and put a hand on his forehead.

His left hand.

"Who told you?" he demanded. There was a strange resonance behind his tone that indicated something otherworldly, and moreover his eyes glowed a royal blue. The mayor was visibly straining not to answer, sweat streaming down his face, but the words came, one by one.

"The-- wolves-- They told us," he gasped, practically turning blue.

"The werewolves told you to hire me?" His tone was straight, steeped in stoic disbelief.

"Don't-- know-- small group of them-- told us-- said we had to-- find you--"

D was troubled, although he didn't show it. The wolves had taunted him only after they'd smelled him, after they knew his bloodline. They had not known who he was, and they'd been scared witless once he'd made his first kill. Why would they have asked the town to hire him specifically?

"How did they tell you?"

At first the mayor didn't answer, panting and squirming in his grip, but D tightened his hold, both magically and physically.

"They-- kidnapped-- one of the townspeople-- nearly killed him-- s-sent him back-- told us to find you--" he choked.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get anymore out of the struggling man; he knew no more than he'd professed to know. D dropped his hand and walked to the door, keeping it open just long enough to pause in the doorway. He could at least put a few things in place that needed addressing before he left:

"Davis."

The sheriff raised an eyebrow.

"Shoot me again, and I will return the bullet to you personally."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was bright out: a few hours before twilight's coming, and the heat was terrible, but if nothing else the Noble's reach would diminish for a while. Sunlight and heat this extreme would at least curb the reach of a vampire's abilities, even if they were demon callers or projectors. The rocks glowed an angry red in the light, dust of a poisonous orange hue flying up in billowing plumes as the desert wind blew onward over the frontier.

D had followed his earlier path back toward the castle, only this time he came prepared with a horse the town blacksmith had lent him: flesh and blood, he'd noted with slight surprise. Those were rare due to their limited capabilities in harsh terrain, and they spooked if one was not careful. Plus they were much more susceptible to lack of nourishment, but a natural mount was better than no mount at all. He was careful not to stress the beast in case something really threatening needed to be outrun later.

The rich brown of the horse's flank was quite a different setting for D's unnaturally ink-black person, but it did its job, getting him to the edge of the castle grounds. He stood silently at the hilltop, watching for any sign of movement as the descending courtyards and moats sunk away into shadow. Even in daylight the castle naturally repelled the sun; fog and mist took much of the brightness away.

D dismounted and left the creature to its own devices, assuming that it would not be so stupid as to approach the rocky premises. It whinnied once, then bowed its head and patiently began searching for hay.

There was a black wall nearest the inner moat that covered a patch of the gothic, spiked gates to the right, and the caves seemed rather close to it. This may have been where he released the werewolves from, or let them back in: a sort of giant, elegantly-styled dog door. The parasite grinned, chortling at the image _that_ conjured up.

"Where is he?" came the inquiry.

"Castle keep," the thing replied immediately. "That's the strongest aura; the weaker one is still in the dungeons."

This backed up the theory of simultaneous broadcasting, D concluded. The weaker one must be the broadcast while the actual Noble was in the keep, as daylight weakened the reach of his projection. Nobles never banded together anymore; they were too rare, and often they'd end up killing each other over territory, if not petty arguments. This was what they had been reduced to after the vampire king's fall, he mused. Not that D felt anything for them: what the Nobility had become had to be eradicated, and he'd been at his job for far too long to even consider moral stickling at this point.

"Let me know if he senses me," D murmured, lifting a hand and beginning to work on the gate with powers long forgotten by most.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

This just wasn't good.

"...Check the signatures again."

He had already slain the target, but that same twinge of unease and presence in the back of his mind remained. The vampire was already shriveling, and the castle was beginning to shake, crumbling walls pooling dust and pebbles onto the once-polished floors, but from the looks of it a small amount of time was on his side.

"It's still there," came the parasite's surprised admission. "Same as before. That aura isn't our guy here."

Almost on a whim, D began searching the room for a lever, or a button of some sort that might give him a passageway, and he soon found himself face to face with the mirror. He punched through it, broken glass piling at his feet and leaving the frame empty for him to enter. Just as he'd suspected: stairs.

A low rumble told him the upper floors were ready to go.

"Better make it quick," the parasite grumbled.

The hunter was soon in front of the great stone doors in the hidden wing of the dungeons. Pushing them open with an echoing creak, he was confronted with the contents of the chamber. A tightly shut casket dominated the center of the room, gleaming with gold trim in the lamplight that flickered obediently on as he entered further. There was indeed a smell and a feel of crackling power that startled him in its strength.

A moment's magic probing toward the casket made both of D eyebrows raise in surprise.

_It's coming from the coffin itself._

There was a curse on it, old magic by the feel of it, and dangerous. D wasn't sure if even he would be able to break it, but if there was another Noble in there, it needed to be dealt with. He paused for a moment, eyes wide as he registered the symbol adorning the lid.

"Anytime this century," the parasite urged, his tone slightly panicky as another loud crash came from upstairs and the floor lurched beneath them.

D struck with his sword, green-blue energy swirling around the casket as he stuck it between the opening where the pieces met and began forcibly prying it off its hinges. The burning wove its way into his every nerve, his hands practically on fire, sword ready to break as he began tearing the seal on the coffin, gritting his teeth in pain that made his eyes glow red.

Growling like a werewolf, the hunter reached up and scratched the burn mark atop the lid, cutting it in two and ripping off the door in one swift motion. He cried out as the spell released him from its touch, feeling as though the door had been ripped off of _him_.

_That wasn't smart_. D was shaking; he could feel the burning ache in his hands all the way up to his shoulders, and he knew the spell had sapped most of his strength in his contact with it. The bullet wound from earlier also felt strange; it was hurting much worse than before, and a nauseating pulse of energy was working its way up and down his arm. He'd have to hurry and kill the Noble before it woke; he was in no shape to handle it once it was awake.

Raising his sword in stinging hands, he aimed downward, ready to stab the thing through the heart--

--and was frozen in mid-thrust, the sword's tip hovering above its chest.

There was _color_ in the vampire's face; lightly rosy cheeks, pale pink lips, and steady breathing. He was pale, but only so much as D himself, not the pallid, dead white of a Noble. The hair was not shocking white, but a fair white-blond, and his clothing was very old: a sort of Victorian-looking black coat trimmed with gold, intricate, bunched lace at his throat, black boots, and a gleaming pendant. D hadn't seen clothing like this since his father's fall.

He could smell blood in his veins: the faint tang of both human-- and vampiric-- blood.

D stopped breathing when dark eyelashes began to flutter, fair face twisting in a light frown as the man woke. His eyes cracked open into slits of liquid gold, watching him cloudily... then snapped wide with a sudden intake of air as he registered the man in black above him, ready to run him through.

Surprised gazes met, and they stayed frozen for a few long moments... until a low rumble heralded the fall of part of the ceiling.

D felt more than than saw it as a literal ton of broken stone fell practically on top of him. A sudden pull at his upper arm sent him careening to one side, rolling in the air and he landed on the other side of the coffin, having been thrown over it. As he looked up, breathing heavily in the dust, he saw that the man in the casket had grabbed his arm and vaulted him away from the collapse.

One hand still clasped around his wrist, the blond dhampire stared at D uncertainly, eyes glowing a rich, piercing yellow in the darkness, not sure if his instinctive move had been the right choice.

D watched him only a moment more before making his decision.

"Let's go," he murmured.

The blond nodded, releasing him and stiffly pulling himself up out of the box, dust rising like smoke from his clothing as he moved. A long black cape with red lining completed his attire, and it floated to the stone floor with all the grace of a flowing stream as he stood.

D was having problems. Something in his arm felt as though it were literally killing him, and the spell had taken whatever remained of his power. The other dhampire seemed to sense this, and even though he was obviously weak as well, he grabbed D's arm and dragged him to the far side of the room.

"Cover your eyes." His voice was deep, like D's own, with a hint of European accent.

D did as he was told and a sudden explosion sent the wall flying outward in pieces. The only thing he saw was the dhampire dropping his lifted cape and reaching for him again before they moved on.

The gap was more than wide enough for both of them to fit through, and D's mind was in shambles as to what happened next: a sudden leap sent both of them airborne and suddenly they were outside the castle gates, having crossed both moats _and_ the spikes, avoiding the structure's downfall. He could hear the crumble of stone and cracking walls far behind them as the once-mighty castle fell in ruins. They stood staring at the wreckage in silence, the last evidence of the Noble fading away.

Abruptly, D gasped as sharp, excruciating pain shot up into his shoulder.

"Are you well?" came the soft inquiry. D looked up to see the other dhampire eyeing him with concern.

"_My arm--_"

The blond knelt next to where D had fallen to one knee, gripping his upper arm in agony. After a moment's wary pausing, he removed the plating on the upper arm and ripped his shirt in two, opening it to the sunset. It looked painful: red and swollen, and a strange black mark was in the exact spot the wound had been, growing darker and darker with each pulse.

"You too, I see," the dhampire muttered angrily. Quickly, the blond took a long, sharp fingernail and, apologizing in advance, he made a deep cut right over the symbol, slicing it in two and pulling back as a mound of dark, smoking pus fell from the wound, spilling over the ground and withering the grass where it fell.

D was breathing slowly and methodically as the pain slowly subsided to a bearable level.

"It was a seal," the dhampire commented as D regained his equilibrium, "the same as mine. It is designed to take your strength and magic and syphon them off, leaving you in sleep until it is broken. Whoever shot you must have known you would come for me, thus coming in contact with the spell and transferring it to you as well." His tone was half appreciative for the help, half disbelieving that somebody had actually found him. "Someone wanted both of us out of the way, it would seem."

"I came here to kill you," D answered shortly.

The two of them locked eyes for a long time, the silence thick with tension.

The hunter stood suddenly.

"...I have to find the horse," he murmured, walking away. The other dhampire said nothing.

A soft whickering came from atop the hill, drawing both their gazes, and there was the horse, waiting patiently where D had left him. D would have snorted, were he not exhausted._ I will have to use natural horses more often._

The blond man rose, following him. There was nowhere else for him to go, and as dhampires, the two of them would probably do well to stick together, at least until he regained his bearings. His questions were many, but he knew until this hunter's wounds were tended and his depleted strength returned, questions would be useless.

D glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but otherwise paid him little heed as he readied their transport. Finally, reaching to grab the reins and pull himself up into the saddle, the hunter was suddenly assaulted by the feeling of knives driving through his arm, and he fell against the horse, hissing in pain, starbursts flashing in his vision. The blond dhampire took the reins from him.

"Allow me. You have just saved my life, so now I presumably owe you the same favor," he said, eyes flicking over D's swollen arm in what appeared to be worry.

Oddly enough, D found himself complying. The strange dhampire mounted, then pulled D up behind him, letting him lean against his back. He'd had the sneaking suspicion his rescuer wasn't going to stay conscious very long, so the propped position was probably the most convenient. With a sharp click of his tongue, the blond struck the horse lightly with the reins, and they headed off toward the town, under D's direction.

"My name is Alucard," the dhampire offered brusquely, his white-blond hair trailing in the wind.

The hunter merely nodded. "...D."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Okay, here's the deal.

**POLL**: Do you want the scene where D slays the vampire, or not? Does it make it too anti-climactic? I will be pondering it myself, but seeing as the vampire is not the REAL problem, I wasn't sure if I should write it, and felt like it didn't really matter that much. However, if you guys want vamp-slaying, vamp-slaying you will get. I just kinda got impatient and wanted to write the next bit.

Yeah, I think I'll end up writing it and reposting. I'm already half-finished with the next chapter, anyway.

Toodles!

Em


	6. Unexpected Truths

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Six:**

**Unwanted Truths**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_If I knew that man's mother, I'd give both him _and_ her an earful: one for letting him wander off like he does, and one for making her worry all the time._

Maggie was peering out the window, trying to seem nonchalant as she pushed the curtain aside, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. It was well past eleven, and there had been no attacks, but D was nowhere to be found. He had left early in the day, and the grim possibilities of capture or death were seeming more and more feasible. It was the fifth time she'd checked the street. No wait, seventh.

"Why is Mr. D not back yet, Mama?" her daughter tugged at her, blue eyes big as marbles. "Is he in trouble?"

She sighed, hoping the girl would have had something other to say and perhaps take her mind off of her current fixation. "I don't know. I don't think so, dear," Maggie told her. "He's just late, that's all."

_At least that'd_ better _be all..._

She'd closed up shop for the night: it hadn't been very busy, what with the attack and all. (It'd been busy earlier though; it seemed like people wanted to get drunk as quickly as they could to get rid of what they'd seen.) Her waitresses had gone home and it was just her and Kelly now. As the hours passed, Maggie was getting more and more restless; she couldn't help it. Now that it was dark and D had gone, what was going to happen? Would he battle the vampire and kill it, or would it kill him and come back to finish them all off?

The woman got chills thinking about it.

"Mama, who's that?"

There was the neighing of a horse outside, and Maggie's heart leapt when she recognized the steed the blacksmith had lent D earlier that day, (at her behest, of course,) already dismounted. She toppled the bar door open to get out and meet him at the gate, wiping her hands hurriedly on her apron and telling Kelly to stay there as she rushed to the doorway.

"D? D, that you? What--"

The doors opened directly in front of her.

Maggie pulled up in fright when a tall, caped stranger entered the tavern, dressed in black with long waves of pale blond hair, a dreadfully pale countenance, and eyes of gold. This was _exactly_ what they had described the vampire as when the men came back from their attempted raid: the one only two of them had returned from.

He eyed her coolly, obviously sizing her up and practically looking _through_ her as he entered, very slowly, peering around the room with barely hidden interest. He reminded her of a wolf watching a young deer.

But as he came all the way into the room, most frightening was that the man was carrying D over his shoulder like a sack of sugar, seemingly unconscious.

"_D!_"

Her first impulse was to snatch him away from the man, but then she realized that if he'd intended the hunter harm, he wouldn't have brought him back in the first place. D's eyes were closed, and it was obvious he was in pain.

"W-what's wrong with him?" she asked shakily, her eyes wide as saucers.

"He is under the after-effects of a spell," came the deep-voiced reply, slowly lowering D to the bartop as he spoke. "I think he could use some medical attention."

Maggie saw the state of his arm and winced. "Stay there with him," she warned, her eyes saying that she wasn't just telling him to keep an eye on D. The pale-haired dhampire caught a glimpse of a young girl watching them from the back doorway, and made a soft noise of understanding.

"I will not leave this room," he assented.

In less than a minute she was back with bandages and began working on D's arm. She grimaced at the dark, reddened state of the wound and the bad swelling of the surrounding flesh. He had to have been ready to scream yesterday, that fool man, but he'd said nothing. He appeared to be unconscious, but only just: his face and hands would twitch spasmodically whenever she touched the wound.

Maggie was aware the stranger was staring at her, his eyes far too predatory and hawk-like for her taste. He was studying her as he had the tavern; as though she were a foreign object, eyes flitting over her clothing, her hair, and occasionally back to the hunter on the table. The pale-haired man carried a sense of age and experience with him, and yet he seemed almost bewildered at his surroundings.

His eyes returned to D again, and the silence had finally stretched to the point of discomfort.

"So... are you a Noble?" she inquired, trying to sound casual.

"No," he answered quietly. "I am like your friend."

She actually stopped working to look at him.

"You mean you're..."

"A half-breed, yes." The tone he used was as if it was something someone else had said to him; many someone elses, and many times.

He sounded so weary, Maggie found her heart going out to the man despite herself. He was much more talkative than D, anyway. "So how did D come across you?" she questioned, eyes fixed on her task.

"I was a prisoner in the castle. He awakened me and broke the spell."

A split-second flash of the tale of Sleeping Beauty almost made her laugh despite the circumstances. "He didn't kiss you, did he?" she joked, peering up at him conspiratorially.

The man's expression was utterly deadpan.

"...Never mind."

A few moments later the stranger surprised her with a question of his own.

"What is this place?" he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

"This is Bremmen, a town on the frontier. We had a problem with a Vampire that'd been terrorizing us with his werewolves, and our very last option," she gestured to D, "came here and agreed to take on the task of killing it." She smiled at him, trying to be amiable. "We've been out here since the 11,000's; we aren't about to just pack up and go away quietly. Lucky D came when he did, or we may have had to," Maggie informed him.

She reached into the wash bowl for some water, splashing it around a bit to clean the cloth. "I'm Maggie, by the way. What's your name?" The woman continued her work until she realized that the dhampire's mouth was hanging open in shock.

"What's the matter?"

"...What did you say?" The man's face was drained of all color.

Maggie was confused. "About D?"

"What year is it?" he asked harshly, his tone demanding not so much in arrogance as in dire need of information.

"It... it's 13, 021," she stated, watching his eyes carefully. "A.D."

Golden eyes flashed in pain, and the dhampire turned his eyes to the floor. He looked as though something inside him was about to burst. Maggie had no idea what was going on, but the stranger seemed genuinely distressed.

_Maria... the Bellmonts... they're all dead. Even their graves will have been reduced to dust by now. Their great great grandchildren are dead. Anyone I knew in the mortal world is gone. Good God... Any _stories_ of them would be gone. _

Who would have thought that the peril every immortal faced in befriending humans would come so swiftly and horribly real? He had been warned and threatened for centuries, by his father, by the demons he'd faced, by the Nobles of the court, and now, all of it was true. There was nothing here that was familiar, no one that he knew. All had been taken from him by the sweeping, relentless sands of time. He had no one in this world.

No one.

"Hey. Hey! Are you all right?"

He looked up numbly at the plump woman in front of him. The dhampire was unsure how to answer.

"I..."

There was a soft moan from beneath them, and Maggie saw that D's eyes were trying to open, a thin sheen of sweat covering his brow.

"D! Hey, can you hear me? D?" She waved a hand in front of his eyes. From D's perspective, her fingers were tripled and fuzzy, and rainbows of color outlined her hand. It made him feel sick.

"Please stop doing that," he croaked, putting a hand to his forehead in an attempt to block out the nauseating imagery.

The parasite whispered quietly at him as he did so, too softly for her to hear: "New boy here is a little freaked out," it breathed. "I think he's been sleeping for a long time, D. A _really_ long time."

D scrutinized the blond man standing above him at the bar, peering through the fingers of his left hand. He watched his movements: the slight trembling, the change in breath, saying nothing. He saw that the parasite was right.

"How long had you been in that coffin?" he inquired softly, his voice slightly hoarse in the silence.

Alucard stared at him.

"I... I remember the fourteen-hundreds," the blond whispered painfully. "I was sealed in early 1418." Maggie pulled up short, seeing the man in a new light, taking in suddenly the style of clothing he wore, and the accent lining his voice-- like D's. The blond dhampire had folded his shaking hands and sat on one of the stools, suddenly seeming quite young despite the situation.

Both of D's eyebrows were raised in sheer amazement.

_Early_ 1418. Just before the death of his father; he was slain in September. That meant he wouldn't know about any-- _any_-- developments with recent vampires-- meaning anything beyond the rift after Dracula's demise-- nor any of the technology the humans now had in supply. Even with the powers he'd demonstrated, it was dangerous out there for this man.

Silence stood between them for a few moments. No one moved.

D noticed that his hat was missing, and that at some point or another his cloak had been removed, leaving him only in his body armor. Finally he realized just _where_ he was lying and could practically hear the parasite's chuckling: '_This is probably a good sign that you need to stop drinking: you're half undressed and lying unconscious on the bar._

The hunter lifted himself up, grinding his teeth while swinging his legs off the countertop, supporting his right arm with his left.

"You need to let me finish, you," Maggie scolded, regaining her voice and pointing at the bar. "Sit back down there and be quiet, else I'll take a frying pan to you!"

The woman was met with twin stares.

A muffled laugh came from somewhere and D's left hand abruptly clenched into a tight fist.

"I'll do it, I mean it," she threatened. "Give me your arm. You're not getting away with an 'I'll be fine' this time."

D resigned himself to his fate and sat down on the bar. Alucard looked as though he would have been amused, were he not dealing with his current predicament. He watched silently as Maggie began wrapping D's arm, not sure what to say, or what to think, for that matter.

"There is a problem," D commented at last, raising his arm a bit for her. "The humans saw you in the coffin during an attack and assumed you were the Noble. The whole town will be after you."

Alucard snorted. "And this would be different from any other time because?"

D nearly-- _nearly_-- cracked a smile. He'd had the same happen to him for years. "After I've dealt with things here, I'll be heading south." He ended there, pointedly waiting for a reply.

Slowly, the blond dhampire saw what he was offering, and after a moment's thought, he smiled attractively.

"I appreciate your help," he assented, inclining his head.

"There are... other things we must discuss as well. But I would have them addressed in private," D added. Deep blue eyes were trained seriously on Alucard, a truth as dark as his gaze lying in their depths. The dhampire was almost shaken by the man's demeanor.

"Understood," he said curtly.

As soon as she finished, Maggie was promptly thanked and left alone in the dark tavern, wondering what in the world the two men had to talk about.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

D drew the curtains on the open window in his room, laying his armor out piece by piece once again and preparing for a good rest. His arm stung, but at least it was bearable now. The other dhampire circled his room, eyeing the various pieces of plain furniture, lingering on the old heater that lay discarded in the corner. A pair of battery packs were attached to the back of it, and the cord lay in a coil on the floor. He studied it as one would if it were an alien object.

Which it was, to him, D noted. He'd even have to explain electricity and cyborg animals to this man.

D finished the disassembling of his armor and turned to face Alucard in the dark. He knew the blond would be able to see his attire perfectly.

Alucard blinked. His brow creased in a troubled expression as he caught sight of D's underclothing:

D's outfit was an exact copy of what he wore beneath his coat and cape, save for it being in blue _and_ black. Testing his theory, the blond dhampire took off his outer layers and laid them on the table. Sure enough, they were identical. The waistcoats were made of the same type of silky, embroidered material, and the lace at their throats had obviously been tatted by the same seamstress. Even the pendants they wore were of the same make: D's a rich blue, and Alucard's a deep red.

"Well, this is interesting," Alucard murmured.

"Were you ever in the employ of the vampire king's court?" D's voice was soft, barely audible, his eyes merely slits of blue.

Alucard caught a strange note in the hunter's inquiry. "You... could say that," he admitted, observing D's lack of reaction with interest. "Not of my own will, of course. At first it was obligation, then imprisonment. I eventually escaped, and after that I lived only to destroy him. T'was my purpose in life, at least until I was sealed."

D's mouth twitched.

They locked eyes, and Alucard was surprised to see a hint of anger, or perhaps frustration, in the dark-haired man's gaze. There was a dead silence as the unsaid question lay between them, and after a while of deep, _aching_ indecision, Alucard finally gave voice to it, a thrill of apprehension rolling down his spine:

"...Where is he now?"

D's mouth tightened.

Alucard's golden eyes begged him an answer, and he sighed. _He would know if I said nothing,_ the hunter mused. D paused momentarily before answering:

"...Dracula is dead."

His voice was soft, but he might as well have screamed at the blond from the look on his face.

Alucard gaped at him, drawing back. The shock hit so forcefully, his knees actually went out from under him, and he sat heavily on his feet on the wooden floor, steadying himself with one hand. He stared up at the hunter in disbelief.

"Dead?" he said harshly.

"Dead," D confirmed, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. "He was killed the same year you were sealed."

Alucard seemed floored at the news. This was what he'd worked and bled for for centuries: an end to his father's reign of terror. But the question was, what would he do now that the vampire king was gone? If D were in his position, he thought, with no ties to this world, he would probably kill himself and rid the planet of the last of Noble blood, but his job still had yet to be completed.

"I don't... really know how I feel..." Alucard stared blankly at the floorboards. "All my life, that was all I wanted..." His tone was rhetorical. "I always thought I would be the one... Or at least the Bellmonts, but... this..."

He met D's gaze squarely.

"Who killed him?"

D hesitated.

The dhampire's golden eyes suddenly became very large as the silence confirmed it.

"You." Alucard's tone was even. "It was you, wasn't it?"

D nodded gently.

He looked back down at the floor, his entire world spinning. Thousands of years gone by, his father defeated, his friends all nothing but mere memories... It was almost too much.

Strangely, a smile tugged at his mouth. His long blond hair obscured his eyes as he spoke. "You know... I always thought that I would feel so... completed... upon hearing that." He actually grinned, a full, catlike grin. "I thought I'd feel so released."

D merely looked at him.

"But... to be honest..." he continued, whispering almost to himself, "he _was_ my father... "

Alucard's smile became a bitter smirk.

_My 'father'... and yet his death was all I ever wished and worked for--_

There was a sudden loud crash that made the blond dhampire jump as D's sword actually _fell_ from his hand to the ground, knocking the washbowl from the table as it dropped and shattering ceramic all over the floor. Alucard shifted his focus to D's face and was startled to see the hunter's eyes nearly popping out of his head. His breathing was unsteady; he could hear the man's heart beating wildly within his chest.

D's head was unconsciously shaking in denial, and huge dark eyes were completely fixed on Alucard.

"_What?_" D managed to say.

The blond was growing steadily more uneasy. The look in D's eyes was bordering on psychotic. "I... know my heritage is... a bit different, but... he... he is dead now, and... I hold naught against you," Alucard tried to comfort him, confused.

"_He_ was _your_--" D was practically choking on the words.

Alucard watched as the hunter clutched at his chest, breathing deeply as if he were about to faint.

"W_hat-- is-- wrong?_" Alucard pressured him, grabbing both of his arms and forcing him to look down.

D looked closer into the dhampire's eyes, taking in every detail: the flawlessly pale skin, the sharp features, slightly pointed nose, high cheekbones, smooth chin, long wavy hair. Despite the light color, D saw what he had missed, what had made him pause the first time he'd laid eyes on the man:

He was the spitting image of his father.

"No," D spat, shoving him away and whirling to face the window, clutching at the arm Alucard had so carelessly touched. He was shuddering. _It can't be!_

Alucard was utterly taken aback.

D was muttering something, and he strained to listen as the hunter's repressed rage came to the surface. "...How could he... how could he do this...? It wasn't enough that I was born... He had to..." He could practically hear bone on bone as D clenched his teeth to the point of breaking.

Alucard looked, really _looked_ at D, his profile lit by muffled moonlight from the curtains-- and nearly died of shock as the image hit him.

"_...Father...?_"

The two dhampires could have been statues of alabaster in the moonlight, glowing gems of sapphire and gold gleaming from their still faces. Neither dared move. Neither dared speak. The curtain drifted lazily in a cool puff of night air, shedding slivers of moonbeam across their identically-clad bodies. Both minds were in turmoil, rocked to the core, unsure of whether this discovery was for good or worse.

There was nothing to be said. Things had taken a sudden turn that both had never thought to expect: they each had a real, living blood relation.

And for once, neither of them wanted to kill the other.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Maggie was busy getting Kelly to wash up for bed, (even though she still wanted to see the newcomer,) and had just begun cleaning up her bar counter when down the stairs came the blond stranger. His eyes were lost; he was visibly shaking and in worse shape than he'd been earlier.

He looked rattled at the very least.

Maggie stared in wondering concern as he passed, calling after him as he walked past her: "Sir, what--? Are you alright? What happened?"

The doors shut after him as he walked out into the street, with only his vest for outerwear.

Maggie sighed despairingly, chucking her used linen into the bucket beside the table.

She hadn't really expected an answer. The two of them had been seemingly reading each other's minds when she'd first seen them together. It had taken D until she'd saved him from overheating to even vaguely open up to her, and even now she knew absolutely nothing about him save stories told her by other people. Now that pale-haired man suddenly showed up and they were thick as thieves. But to top it off, she didn't really mind, seeing as this new man was as courteous as D, with a bit more conversational skill to boot. When had those two become her problem anyway?

_The moment you let him stay here_, she reminded herself. The woman threw her hands up in exasperation and smacked her cleaning rag onto the table, practically bashing the lamp out as she turned away.

Dhampires. It was enough to drive you batty.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It had been about three hours since their revelation.

D had turned to the window in thought, so deeply absorbed in contemplation that even the other dhampire's exit hadn't stirred him, leaving him alone with his wonderings. Alucard was perched on the rooftop overlooking the town, trying to sort out the entire mess of information he'd been fed while the stars slowly lit the sky in a cloud of sparkling mist.

_Father... You had another son._

He looked dispassionately on the sleeping town, bathed in both darkness and gleaming light.

Another son.

He wasn't jealous, not in the slightest; nor was he bitter at having there be another half-breed in the world. It was a just a very, very strange feeling; a kind of... well, a lack of a void. Something replaced in him that hadn't been there in centuries: He had family.

Of course it wouldn't be the same as a human family: they would forever be outcasts, hunters of the night, not to be trusted. But somehow, after the fact, the title itself gave him some small comfort. Family. Strange that during the span of a natural life with his human friends, he had never had anyone who was a real relative, but now, after thousands of years asleep, he awoke to a brother.

Brother. The word sounded so strange in his ears. He almost mouthed it, but utterance was a forbidding prospect.

D didn't seem too thrilled with the idea; after all, he'd nearly had a heart attack and refused to talk to him once they'd figured it out. But something in the dhampire's reaction had spoken of delicacy, of weakness: the revelation had been a severe blow to him and he was trying to cope with it. Alucard came to the conclusion that space between them would probably be a good idea right now.

Sighing deeply, the dhampire leaned back on the roof tiles, pillowing his head with his arms, watching the stars as they shone on the futuristic town.

He hadn't been schooled in anything in over twelve thousand years. But, with a slight sense of foreboding, Alucard knew tomorrow was going to be quite the educational experience.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You okay?" The parasite actually sounded sincere.

Silence.

"That was a pretty big thing back there. I knew there was something about that aura, but... wow. Didn't see that one coming," it commented.

D didn't answer.

"...Did you know?" he said, very softly.

The thing blinked slowly, lids closing briefly over empty eye sockets. That may have been the first time D had ever asked him something personal.

"Did I know?"

"Did you know about him?" the hunter repeated shortly.

"About him? Hell, no. There had been some rumors, about a light-haired dhampire: the half-breed son of the vampire king, but they were few and far between. I just always assumed they got your coloring wrong," the parasite admitted.

He was silent again.

The moon was not out tonight, but the stars were bright. That was strangely comforting, in a way. His whole plane of existence had turned on its axis as swiftly as the turning of the day into night. This man... he was his flesh and blood. Not some foreign offspring of a rampant vampire, raping and murdering random prey, but the child of his father and a human woman.

Just like him.

There had never been another who was exactly like him, and not nearly so close to home. It was more than unsettling, it was undoing him in its severity: Alucard was his sibling, and he felt the same way D had when he saw the horrid deeds his father had wrought on the mortal populace.

The difference was, D had been awake for these past twelve thousand years, and that was making all the difference now. He was worn out, and this new discovery was timed most terribly. His defenses had lowered, his strength was diminished, and finally, after all this, he was unable to just go back to the open roads, alone, to face his next game:

He was bound to the mortal world once again, in a way he'd never expected.

He had a brother.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Uhm. Okay. I'll be honest...

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH THIS NEW DHAMPIRE TO KEEP HIM IN CHARACTER!

I'm TRYING to keep him from being OOC, so tell me, tell me, TELL ME if I start straying!

Ta! Hee hee hee... Mwahahaha BUAAAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHA!

...Sorry.

Also, if you want a very, very, VERY good D-Alucard brotherly crossover, Unseen Watcher has an awesome, beautiful, totally SWEET story in the VHD section. She's also on my fave author's list if you wanna check it out, and yes, I must admit, the original idea was taken from her, although I have different things in mind and couldn't wait any longer for the two of them to figger out they're related. However, I am still TOTALLY in love with her story.

She just needs to finish it. 

Mata mina!


	7. A Long Way from Home

Hiya! First of all, yes, I know, the dates are SCREWED. UP. With a capital SCREWED. But I made it up and I like it, so HA!

Disclaimer? Bite me.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Seven: A Long Way from Home**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Morning seemed a trifle. Usually there was some sense of ceremony he felt watching the glowing sun rise from its dark bed of earth, but today it seemed merely monotonous. Not in a few centuries had he thought of it as such, but today, this first day of awakening, the sun held no mystery, no intrigue.

No interest.

Alucard watched with a tempered air as light spread across the dusty land, touching the mountains and coloring them with all the skill of a master artist. Warm golds, fiery oranges and blood reds mixed in sprawling lines from the circle of light on the horizon, and he watched it like an observer for once, rather than a participant in the flood of brilliance.

It was this that set him apart from his father and the dark background from which he'd sprung, and daily, before he slept and after he woke, he used to look at the sunrises and sunsets with heavily concealed eagerness, enjoying in some innate sense how he was able to partake in such a luxury while his father-- that ruler of all things vile and monstrous-- ne'er could do the same.

It was something that was his, something that connected him to the heritage of his mother and human friends; not to be taken lightly. But now, today, in this strange land, for the first time it all seemed to flare out and die before him.

It was merely cold.

The roof had proved a restless bed indeed. The blond dhampire wasn't sure if he would ever sleep again after so many centuries in stupor. The town was beginning to stir, however, and seeing him perched on a rooftop might scare a few too many people for his own good, he knew. A morning bell sounded in the distance, adding to his haste.

With a graceful leap, he landed crouched on the dusty path, two stories down, and rose to enter the tavern.

_Who knows? I might even need a drink._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I uh, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it's time to get up and find yer new sibling."

D didn't think he'd ever hated that voice more than now.

Not only was it jarring to think of last night's events, but his arm was throbbing something awful, and he actually had dark circles beneath his eyes. D was very worn out, almost as though recovering from a heat syndrome he'd never had, and it was infuriating. Trying to open his eyes was a tremendous task. It didn't help matters that the light, cold as it was, was streaming in through the window, and to all of him that was vampire, that meant that it was most certainly _not_ the time to be up.

"Come on now, get up. If you can," the parasite snickered.

Such taunts were for a much younger dhampire, but the man still managed to flare his temper enough to get him fully awake.

Not before he smacked his left palm into the wall, of course. Hard.

The townspeople were awakening as well, with rattling carts, dinging metal, and quiet chatter sounding from the lower floors through his window. He'd left it open again, but woken early, so that was good. He wouldn't be having a repeat of a few days ago.

Rising was a trial; his arms were shaking as he lifted himself from the bed, disentangling himself from the sheets and reaching for his boots.

_I have not felt like this before. So drained... I feel I could sleep a fortnight._

"Well that's what happens when you're actually surprised by something. Ice cube..."

He ignored the thing. Recalling the night's happenings did make him remember the look on the blond dhampire's face. He'd been woken to many a startling truth, and in rapid succession, he realized. His friends dead, his father dead, all life as he knew it changed, and now he had a sibling? He was probably ten times worse off than D had been that night.

The blond had tried to talk to him, tried to console him or let him feel that he wasn't alone in his turmoil, but D had turned his back to him, staring out the moonlit window in silence. He had probably been hurt, even though both of them were old enough as to where it shouldn't have mattered. Knowledge of such ties did tend to change one's reactions.

_I should not have been so hard on him._

He heard a giggle from downstairs, followed by a short, half-laughing scolding. Finishing with his boots, (and knowing that Maggie had closed shop from a reflection in the opposite window,) D left his armor and descended the stairs with only his sword for protection.

The curtains had been drawn in the tavern to keep out most of the light and divert prying eyes from its occupants. Breakfast was obviously cooking from the smell of it, and a low masculine voice joined Maggie and her daughter's in conversation. D knew at once that it was Alucard.

Rounding the corner, however, made him pause in mild surprise as he registered the scene unfolded before him:

Alucard was wearing one of Maggie's white aprons, flipping a pancake as Kelly, the girl, showed him how to do it, sitting on the countertop and kicking her dangling legs. He was watching and listening in rapt attention what the girl was doing, nodding at all the appropriate times; meanwhile Maggie supervised in a matronly manner and made sure there was no grease or batter spilled on her counters. The pale-haired man looked completely put of place, but he was utterly absorbed in the task of turning the next cake properly, which he did. Kelly clapped for him.

D mentally warned the parasite to stifle its laughter, threatening it with an imagined picture of him dissecting his palm piece by piece.

Alucard saw him immediately and offered a friendly explanation:

"Our host informed me that as long as I was to stay here, I had to earn my keep," he related. "You had already done the service of a vampire slaying, so I am thus forced to repay her the only way I know how."

"You didn't know how to do it ten minutes ago," Kelly reminded him, giggling in a childish manner.

"Oh yes, that's right, isn't it?" the dhampire replied lightly. "I spilled grease all over the floor," he admitted, to D's amusement.

"And a pancake!" the girl laughed again.

"Now look here, young lady; a girl like you should know when to mind her manners," Alucard began in a parental fashion, but to his dismay the spatula that was still in his hand had batter left on it, most of which flipped up onto his face as he shook it at her in a scolding.

This sent Kelly into a fit of giggles and she practically fell off the counter.

"Now then, Kelly, watch yourself," Maggie warned, but her eyes sparkled with mirth. "Give the poor man a towel, for goodness' sake."

D stood watching with something that could only be a smile involuntarily tugging at his mouth. It was as if he were with them in the conversation, although he said nothing.

"Would you care for some?" Maggie inquired. "I think we'll have more than enough left over for all."

D inclined his head toward her. "Thank you."

Removing the apron and wiping his batter-decorated nose with a rag, Alucard released his hair from the tie he'd put it in to keep it out of the food, looking uncertainly at D. He turned quickly to put away the dishes they'd washed earlier while the females went out into the vast sets of tables, armed with napkins.

D realized with a start that the blond man was nervous.

"...I apologize if I disturbed you last night," he said quietly, not turning around. "You are still not well."

"You did not," D answered, understanding of the real meaning of his apology.

There was a silence filled with only the clatter of silverware as Maggie and Kelly set tables across the room.

D put a hand on the man's shoulder over the countertop, making him jump and flinch openly. He turned the other dhampire to face him, reluctant though the man was. Gold eyes met his own, and he saw the fear and doubt in the newly awakened half-breed's countenance, barely masked. D sought to set him right in his assumptions:

"I apologize if my initial reaction... alarmed you," he said carefully. "I am... not used to personal matters."

Alucard searched the man's eyes and saw that the hunter was now merely perplexed, not angry or bitter at his existance, and a measure of the weight he bore lifted. "Nor I," he agreed. The blond turned and began placing the stacked dishes with renewed fervor.

"I could supply recompense for your lodging," D informed him, leaning on the bar, filling with well-concealed humor at the sight.

"Yes, but then what would I have to occupy my time?"

The question was not mirthful, as it had been intended. The tone released was more desperate, and very bleak.

D was silent, knowing how delicate the man must feel at this moment.

"I needed to do something that did not require thought," Alucard clarified shortly, still not looking at him. "This seemed as good a task as any. There's nothing left to kill, anyway." His last statement was only semi-joking.

The hunter considered it for a moment, and came up with an appealing solution.

"Would you come to the smith with me?" the hunter offered. "You will need a weapon. This town's crafting will have to do until we can find you something more suitable."

Alucard seemed cheered at the prospect. "It would be nice," he consented, his voice ringing with gratitude. He put down the bundle of spoons he'd been cleaning and wiped his hands, obviously eager to go. "I have missed the feel of a blade. I'll gladly accompany you."

"After breakfast," Maggie and Kelly called together.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Outside, the sun had gained strength, and the heat was on the rise. D was pondering what might happen were Alucard to go out in this weather. He'd been sleeping so long and the climate had changed so much from those years; would he be able to cope? Due to the overuse of nuclear energy and the severe resource depletion over the years, the world had thrown itself into chaos. New levels of heat had come from global warming, which had basically turned much of the planet into this desert frontier, and most of the animals were dangerous due to mutations.

Making a living was difficult for all, and mankind had been tossed from the lap of technological luxury into the poverty of civilization. The only useful technology left was remnants of a dead society, rebuilt and repaired as best the new, impoverished humans could manage.

Now D was actually slightly worried about the blond dhampire. Alucard was not as fine as he let on; the heat and bloodlust were building on him, that much he could tell.

_Perhaps he should stay here for the day,_ he mused.

The man walked into the room the moment he'd the question crossed his mind, not giving him time to find an answer. Alucard had dressed in his coat and cloak, pulling the hood over his light hair and pale skin to block the sun, and the appearance of a regal half-breed was again enforced against the elements: emotional and physical. One look at his eyes told him that the man would not relish being left behind.

D motioned for them to go and stepped out into the light, once again clad in armor, cape, and hat. Restraining his original apprehension, Alucard lifted his head high and followed him onto the dry dirt path.

The two of them were quite a sight, and were noticed immediately.

In a village full of dust colored clothing, they stood out in flowing jet black, and their added height and graceful gaits drew the gazes of unwary humans. D made certain that anyone passing kept their stares to themselves, keeping prying eyes from peering to closely under the cloaked stranger's hood. The hunter took a left at the next road, heading in the direction of the blacksmith, and a clutch of women barred their path.

"I don't think it was all that bad, Petunia; after all, he's just--"

"Oh!"

One of them, a redhead, stopped so abruptly that the other townswomen ran into her, tripping over her skirts and nearly falling.

Without warning, Alucard's gentlemanly instinct took over and he caught her arm before she landed facedown in the dirt. She screamed, but stopped herself halfway, letting out a muffled cry that turned only a few heads. D could hear the sound of holster straps popping and searched quickly for the source of the sounds. Three men were watching the altercation with danger in their eyes, their postures tense as they saw the newcomer grab the woman.

She looked up into his face and was startled breathless. "Oh," she murmured, eyes like saucers.

"Are you hurt?" he inquired politely, removing his hand once he was sure she could stand on her own.

The woman shook her head no, unable to get an intelligible answer out of her frozen throat.

He tipped his head down towards her and moved on, smoothly traveling around the group of females while they stared in silent wonder and a little fear. D felt the men relax as he left the scene, if only a hair. The guns stayed ready, but as they moved away he felt their interest fade.

As he came up behind the blond dhampire, ready to enter the shop, D murmured into his ear quietly enough for only him to hear:

"I would appreciate if we left the risks for _after_ we've supplied you with a weapon."

A smile lifted the corner of Alucard's mouth.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The doors creaked as the two men came back from their errand, and Maggie felt a grin coming on. They were waiting patiently to greet her as she came over from the closet, a broom in her weathered hands.

"So? How did everything go?" she asked, noting the sheath in the dhampire's hands.

"Well; thank you." D glanced in Alucard's direction with what appeared to be amusement. "We had only a minor altercation, with a woman."

Maggie almost laughed. "I imagine so," she remarked casually, keeping her face as straight as possible.

Alucard smiled, his eyes glinting as he shook his pale hair free of the hood. "I have no idea what you two are talking about," he retorted airily.

Maggie chuckled despite herself. The woman walked toward the back wall, still talking as she reached to draw the drapes adorning the window. "Well, make yourselves comfortable. I have some excellent stew for lunch, if you're hungry," she added. "I know it's almost noon--"

"_Don't!_"

Both D and Maggie stared at the blond man. The word had been a sharp plea, almost frantic, and his hand was extended towards her.

Alucard steadied himself, drawing back and inhaling deeply. His hands were shaking.

"...I am sorry."

D lifted an eyebrow, realizing just how hot it was, and how pale the other man looked--

"I am sorry..." Alucard muttered. "I think I... need..."

D rushed the two steps between them and caught the dhampire around the shoulders just before he dropped toward the floor with a sigh, his knees giving way beneath him. Maggie gasped with a start when he fell; If D hadn't sensed his collapse he probably would have fallen into the corner of the nearby table, and the suddenness of it frightened her. "D?" she inquired, he voice high-pitched with uncertainty.

"Alucard," D said sternly, trying to reach him in his groggy state, pulling him up onto his chest.

He received a moan in reply. The man had his hand to his forehead, obviously disoriented, watching the empty air with a mystified expression. "What is...?"

"Heat syndrome," D confirmed. "You are not used to this climate." He gently took the sword from his grasp, removing the man's heavy cloak. Maggie pulled the chairs away from the table to let D prop him against the side of it, his breath unsteady, and the hunter swiftly stripped him of his outer layers.

"Stay awake," he ordered. "I will bring you to a cooler place."

"I don't feel well," he commented. Almost immediately following the bewildered statement, the blond dhampire sagged against D's shoulder, and he was completely unconscious, lying limp in his arms. D inwardly cursed himself.

_I should have not brought him out so soon; he was not ready for it. I knew this was a possibility, so why did I bring him? Fool._

Maggie nearly shrieked when at that moment, the outer door to the tavern rattled with loud banging. A shout echoed through the door, and D recognized it as the voice of Sheriff Davis:

"Open up, Mags! We know you're in there, and we know the hunter's there too," came the cry. "Open the door and let's see your new friend!"

D looked sharply at her, and the woman's terrified eyes shone back.

"Oh no," she breathed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I. Am. Evil. But at least there's a new chappie, so what are you complaining about, hmm? HMM?

Review, and feed the blot punny.


	8. Bonds and Bondage

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Eight: Bonds and Bondage**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"_Open up, Mags; it'll just cost you more if we have to break the door down!_"

There was double meaning behind the sheriff's muffled threat.

Maggie was frozen. She had no idea what to do; the other dhampire was lying like a rag doll in the hunter's arms: unconscious. D was watching the door with predatory eyes, his mind obviously racing as he fought to come up with a solution for their predicament. Maggie would most certainly be incriminated for harboring them, and Alucard wouldn't last long in the state he was in, especially if the humans got their hands on him.

"D-- get out the back," she stammered, her eyes darting back and forth from him to the door. "You can run--"

"No," he interrupted firmly. "He would not last more than a few hours in that sun. I am not sure I would, either. And they are already here."

Maggie heard voices outside the back door and knew that he was right.

"_If you don't open up on three, Maggie, we're going to come in our own way,_" came the shout. "_And you won't like the result; I'm telling you. One!_"

D shared a long look with the woman. His gaze was steady.

"Let them in."

She whipped her head up towards him. "Are you insane? They'll kill both of you!"

"They would kill _you_ if you resisted," he countered. "You've already given us too much. Let them have us."

"No!"

The pounding was growing stronger now.

D was calm, but his eyes were hardening as the seconds went by and the humans became more impatient. He wouldn't plead with her, but she had a feeling the look on his face right now was as close as he would ever get to it.

"_Two!_"

"Do it."

His tone booked no room for argument.

Maggie looked horrified-- but then, softly, Kelly whimpered from the back room. They would probably imprison her too, and she was scared to death already. There was a death penalty for those associated with the Nobility, and having two half-breeds stashed in her tavern would more than point the finger at her. If she didn't comply, she was obviously siding with them and had probably been bitten herself.

With a crushing weight bearing down on her conscience, Maggie strode numbly to the door and released the latch just as Davis yelled.

_"Thr--!"_

The door swung open. The sheriff was leaning bonelessly against the doorframe, two fingers straightening his hat.

Maggie stood upright before the lawman, defiance in her posture, her expression.

Davis merely grinned a sickening grin. "Thanks, Mags." He spat a mouthful of tobacco into the corner and it splattered as it hit the wall, leaving a sick-looking stain.

"This is not over," she warned him, green eyes blazing in contempt.

"Oh, I know it," Davis answered. Something came into his face that frightened her, and he she stared at him as he motioned for his men to enter.

A group of fifteen cowboys armed with various weaponry came rushing through the open door, training cocked firearms on the two men in the middle of the tavern floor, sweat beading on their brows as they aimed. They were led by Mackwell and Kerry, who both had giant automatic rifles at their shoulders.

D did not move.

Davis came sauntering up to him, swaying almost drunkenly, clearly overjoyed to have found him in such a compromising position. He bent down and got in the hunter's face, looking like a fox who had just come across a wounded rabbit.

"Well, now. It seems you found a new buddy, dhampire," he sneered. "I knew you'd be siding with them at some point. I'm just glad you left the slaying part to me."

D merely looked at him. His eyes were cold, and totally unperturbed.

"Unfortunately," Davis drawled, drawing out the silence in an attempt at intimidation, "the mayor wants to see you in a jail cell, and some witnesses to your crimes, before we stake the both of you through the heart." He winked, more of an eye-twitch than any conscious effort. "And probably burn you for good measure."

Davis switched his gaze to the man in the hunter's lap.

D unwittingly tightened his grip on Alucard, drawing him closer to his breast, and the blond head lolled. The hunter's air was that of a beast protecting its one of its own, and Davis shivered a bit before he caught himself at the sight of glowing, fiery blue eyes. He tried to laugh it off with a smile, mockingly putting forth a hand to stroke the blond's smooth, pale cheek.

After all, he was the captor here.

"Touch him and die."

The words were stated quite simply. D's long fingers were already one with handle of his sword.

Davis was so shocked that he actually backed down, looking in surprise from one man to the other. The hunter was showing signs of emotional attachment, and a strong one at that. The sheriff glanced uncertainly at the statuesque countenance resting on the hunter's shoulder, oblivious of the gathered men, and found himself staring in both wonder and suspicion. D couldn't have met the Noble more than a day ago.

Exactly who was this man?

"Get them both up," he snapped.

One man with long sideburns reached for the blond dhampire, and D petrified him with a look. The henchman turned to his boss, who urged him on again as the hunter glared at him with the eyes of a wolf.

D swiftly took an evaluation as they argued: The odds were not good, and even if they got away, it was broad daylight. He could feel the man's pulse growing fainter with the heat, and his own vision was starting to swim.

"I will go quietly," D offered hesitantly, interrupting them. "If you let me take him."

The sheriff was watching him with an expression that said he thought the hunter had gone crazy. "Fair enough. But one sign of funny business and we'll shoot him first," Davis snarled, yanking the hunter to his feet.

D stared at Maggie momentarily where she stood in her corner, and she stared back with fear pervading her every pore. He nodded at her, trying to appear reassuring, and slowly walked out the door, Alucard's arm dangling limply from his grasp.

Davis followed, looking hard at the tavern woman, and put his nose directly in front of hers. "You'll be questioned later, Mags. It wasn't very nice of you not to tell," came the harsh whisper.

She glared at him with all the fires of hell.

He grinned again, snapping from deadly to carefree in less than a millisecond. "Have a nice day," he mocked, bowing low, and tugging on his hat. With that the men followed him out the door, leaving Maggie alone in the dark tavern.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was clean, as jail houses go.

There was a pile of blankets strewn over the bales of straw for bedding, and even a pillow. The water cans and frugal dishware were clean as well, and there was clean water in them. There was only one window, luckily enough; the moment they'd been locked in the cell D had thrown off his cape and used it to cover the window, blocking out as much sun as possible. The walls were of a strong metal, one that D knew even he would not be able to penetrate, and the conductive material was making it even warmer. It would be freezing in the dark, but that was not the issue now.

The man who had locked them in had taken pity on the fact that one was out cold and gave them water, which D thanked him for promptly. Without water, D wasn't sure if Alucard would make it 'til nightfall.

There was a guard watching his every move as D began working to alleviate Alucard's fever, laying him over the blanketed bales of hay. He could smell the fear coming from the human, but at the same time he knew curiosity was making him more attentive than fear.

Ignoring him, D stripped Alucard of his vest, shirt, and boots, leaving him only in leggings, and began swiping the dhampire's skin with a soaking cloth torn from his own cape. There was a breeze, however sweltering, and he hoped that at least might be enough to take away a measure of the heat.

The guard was fanning himself with his hat, still watching them, when Macwell came to relieve him of his duties. "My turn," he said brusquely, two words all he was willing to waste in explanation. The bigger man trained ruthless eyes on the dhampires in the cell. The guard slipped out of the building without a word, and Macwell didn't even turn to look at him as he left.

D could feel the man's eyes on him, boring into his back, and felt the hatred in him. He didn't bother to look, merely wetting the cloth again and streaking Alucard's face with it.

After a few moments of silence, Macwell lowered himself into the vacated chair and settled in to keep watch. D knew that his nonplussed exterior was merely a front; if they tried anything the man would be more than happy to have a chance to shoot.

"N-no..."

Alucard had begun to thrash and moan unintelligibly, feeling the effects of the burning sun and awakening more and more to the fact that he was absolutely miserable. D had quieted him with a few soft words and kept reapplying moisture with the cloth, but it wasn't helping. The later it got, the higher the temperature seemed to get, and Alucard went from a few spastic movements to an actual, full-blown struggle to escape the choking heat.

"Nn," the blond flung an arm out as though to ward off a blow, and D caught it, holding him in place as gently as he could. "No," the dhampire was mumbling.

"Father, no...!"

D stared at him.

Macwell started slightly at that._ 'Father'? _Did vampires _have _parents?

Abruptly the blond's long, claw-like nails went deep into the skin of the hunter's forearm, drawing blood and making him hiss in pain. Macwell almost stood at the sudden sound, fixed on the hunter's cry. He'd been ordered to shoot if anything strange started to happen, and this qualified as the beginnings of strange.

"What's going on in there?" he demanded harshly.

Alucard struggled to rise from the blankets, eyelids fluttering open and focusing on D's grim features as he woke halfway. His eyes flew open in startlement, however, when he saw the dark, wavy hair and pale skin of the man holding him down.

He screamed.

Macwell leapt up from his seat at the unearthly sound and put his pistol through the bars of the door, aiming back and forth from pale hair to dark. "Get back!" he yelled, not sure who he was talking to. Was the creature dying of exposure, or was it a ruse?

"Alucard!" D shouted, trying to wake him from his hallucination. "_Alucard--_"

The pale dhampire sat bolt upright, staring into D's face for the first time.

"...D...?" he whispered, his nerves visibly on edge.

"It's me."

Alucard dropped shuddering back to the pillow, holding D's wrists as if they anchored him to the world.

"Oh, God," he croaked.

Macwell had relaxed just hair, but hearing that sent a shock through him. It was supposed to be painful for vampires to even utter the name of God, yet the man hadn't flinched as he'd spoken. The stocky man stepped back a bit as if to go back to his seat; it didn't appear as though a break-out was being planned, and the two of them were totally ignoring him; that was good.

Not like the last time. Last time the thing had taunted him, making fun of the mutilated corpses of his friends who he hadn't saved. It's entire aura was malicious and pure evil. It would have killed him too, had backup not come at the last moment. He'd sworn within himself to never let a situation like that arise again: he'd kill the Noble before it had a chance to mock him.

_Never again._

D laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, trying to be comforting. It had been a while since he'd had to comfort anyone; the sensation of doing so was strange. He took up the water bowl again, trying to make the man drink. "You were having a nightmare," he said slowly.

Alucard chanced a look at D's face before lowering his eyes. "You," he muttered, "You look... like him..."

D froze.

Alucard noticed his hesitation and exhaled slowly. "Forgive me," he managed, his voice swimming with regret. "I know that you aren't; you just... startled me." The dhampire pushed damp strands of blond hair out of his face, still shaking from weakness.

D took his arm to keep him upright, making certain he was stable before releasing him.

"When will the heat die down?" Alucard asked unhappily.

D relaxed a bit; the man looked much better than he had. He was actually sitting up, at least. "Usually at twilight. Then it's freezing," he said dryly. "We have some protective surroundings, at least."

Alucard ran a shaking hand through his long hair, sweeping it back over his head uncertainly. "I feel... I don't know... strange," he explained. "Like I'm on fire, but not as painful."

"Have you never experienced heat syndrome before?" D found this interesting. Every dhampire experienced it at some point, if they moved in daytime. Then it occurred to him.

"I don't usually keep a daytime schedule," Alucard confirmed, seeing the question in his eyes. "I learned from... _him_... that it was more pleasant and less climatically dangerous to emerge at night."

D knew it all too well.

"Lay down and get some rest," D commanded him. "Much will happen soon; you'll need it."

Alucard studied him. He half smiled. "You mean you'll need it."

D blinked. The man had seen right through him.

"I will sleep, but only if you do as well. You look like hell," the blond dhampire said. His tone was rather condescending.

The hunter raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a near smile.

"Agreed."

From his corner, Macwell watched them with an inner struggle somewhat like a hurricane. These were evil beings; they lived to torment others, and drain the life out of them. So then why, why were they so... affectionate in their exchanges? It didn't make sense. Macwell didn't want it to make sense. His beliefs that were once so firmly founded had just been questioned, and the more he watched, the sicker he felt.

The heavyset man glared at them, fingering his pistol reflexively.

_They must be tricking me, bewitching me... That is all they are capable of._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_A few hours later_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So can I come out now?" came a grumble from D's palm.

He nodded, not bothering to open his eyes. He could hear Alucard's breathing and steady heartbeat; he wouldn't be waking anytime soon. The hunter's left hand twitched, and with a sudden spasm of its fingers it hopped up near his face, pulling the arm it was attached to with it: quite a strange sight for anyone who would be watching. It edged up as where its palm was directly over his ear, hoping to keep the conversation private.

"So? What's your plan?" the left hand urged him. "What's the deal with the mayor, or the sheriff for that matter? I'm gettin' weird vibes from that guy."

"I don't know. Davis is definitely more of a threat than the mayor," D murmured. "We need to get out of here. When is it safe to move him?"

"Probably in the next few hours or so... The sun'll be down, and he'll have gotten some strength back at least."

"Good. I'll need your services then."

A faint snort. "Whenever have you not needed my services? Hehehe..."

D repositioned his hand back down by his waist, where it had lain before the parasite had decided to bother him. It felt so different... D was quite used to spending his nights in dank, insufferable conditions, or even withstanding torture from cruel humans, but trying to keep another person out of the same fixes was, quite frankly, weird and completely unnatural to him.

_When did I start caring so much?_

"Since he showed up," the parasite mumbled matter-of-factly.

D lay there, watching the metal ceiling and seeing nothing. "Since he showed up," he repeated thoughtfully.

The moonlight was showing in a slit beneath the cover of his cape. A quick look revealed that night had indeed come, and Macwell was still in his chair, brooding. One glance showed that the man was deep in thought, and, indeed, quite inattentive.

_Time to go..._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_The meal was a quiet affair, but a happy one. The Noble was dead, D seemed to Maggie to be actually contented at the moment, (even though he was plainly tired,) and the newcomer was proving to be one of Kelly's favorites. Once she found one it was hard to make her let go, until she grew out of it, that was. Maggie almost rolled her eyes when the girl offered the plate of steaming hotcakes to him a third time. _

I sense hero-worship coming on_. "Kelly, let the man eat," she snapped. The girl reluctantly lowered the plate back to the table._

_D accepted it with an appreciative nod as Maggie handed him his portion, thickly drizzled with syrup. It was synthetic, of course, as they couldn't afford to drain trees of sap when they had them, but it still tasted as sweet. _

_Alucard looked surprised at the flavor, but quite pleased._

_"Is it good?" Kelly asked, sounding hopeful._

_He smiled at her. "Very. I thank you for teaching me to make them."_

_She blushed, but her grin merely stretched wider._

_"So, I trust everything is better than last night?" Maggie inquired, cutting her cakes neatly into bite-sized pieces. Her hair was drawn up in a cloth, and she adjusted it as she spoke. "You looked awful when you left. I was worried you'd get yourself into trouble."_

_Alucard glanced at D, not sure how to answer. "I... we are fine, now. It was just... a bit..."_

_To everyone's shock and amazement, D took over the conversation. _

_"We discovered an unexpected link between us last night." The hunter's eyes were clear and quite calm. He looked at the other dhampire almost fondly. "He is my brother."_

_Maggie dropped her fork._

_Her green eyes were wide and shining as she looked between the two of them. It explained so much: why they had seemed to get along well when they'd only just met, why they naturally trusted each other, why they looked like negatives of each other, why they even moved alike..._

_Alucard looked just as shocked. D had been close to dying of denial when the truth had reared its seemingly ugly head; now he commented on it as though he were speaking of the weather. The hunter had picked up his fork and gone on with his meal, leaving the talking to them again, and a spark of weak hope came into Alucard's breast. _

_Maybe they weren't as separated as he had imagined._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As D watched, Alucard's face broke into a smile. Even in dreams, something had made him smile. As he hefted the man into his arms, the vampire hunter couldn't help almost smiling himself. Thousands of years old, and yet, still a child.

_The world is cruel..._

"Perhaps. But the two of you found each other, didn't ya? Maybe it's not as cruel as you're makin' it out to be," came the voice from his wrist.

At that, D finally did smile.

_Perhaps._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Macwell heard a loud bang, and a thick green smoke filled the entire building. Coughing and cursing loudly, the man drew his gun and shot several times into the plume, only to have a shot ricochet back at him and nearly take his head off.

The smoke had cleared just enough to reveal the wall that had been blown outward, leaving the exit big as life.

"Damn it!" he snarled.

Now he was going to have to explain to Davis just how the two vampires had escaped from a thick, metal-walled shack... in full view of a guard.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o


	9. Underground

Ohhhh dear. Just for the record, you guys reading this should be very grateful that it isn't my Kenshin fic, or my Moonchild fic... God knows when the last time I updated those was. XD Once again, I have NOT. ABANDONED. ANYTHING. Every fic I have not yet finished, (with the exception of Pay Attention, Class), WILL be FINISHED! I swear!

Three months in Nagasaki and being a week late for school makes one busy. SORRY SORRY SORRY! And now bronchitis the first week back of Spring semester... I sound like Kenshin in the Seisouhen Arc...

And I know, literal _years_ of no updates... I'm trying really hard, guys, I really am... Just be patient; I've been getting inspiration to write more on this from my muses. Specifically a friend of mine known as PhantomSeptember on deviantart, LOL , plus I read through it again and forgot how much I liked it... Here you are, folks: Chapter Nine!!

P.S. RevieworIwillhateyouforever.

Have a nice day!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Chapter Nine: Underground**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sunset.

"Momma--"

"Kelly, be quiet, I have to think!" yelled Maggie.

Her hands seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her hair, doing a fair job of tearing out a few unsuspecting strands. The men had come straight into her house, seized both of the dhampires none too gently, and left, shoving her and Kelly up into the guest room with a posted guard. She had seen D wince, only slightly, as one of the men grabbed hold of his injured arm, invisible beneath dark armour and fabric.

"Damn that infernal man a thousand times over," she swore, pacing the space in front of D's former bed. "He could have found a better way to get out of that! Why did he just-- argh!!"

Kelly sat with her knees drawn up to her chin, hugging herself and crying quietly. He mother was preoccupied and she knew she shouldn't bother the woman when she got like that, but she was scared out of her wits from the armed men who had nearly broken down their front door. She was hungry, too, and she had to use the bathroom, but so far their captors had done nothing more than ignore them and poke rifle barrels in their faces if they said anything.

Maggie was tearing white streaks into the floorboards from pacing. _And Alucard didn't look good,_ she mused grimly, turning the bend for another lap across the room. He really looked like he was in trouble. _The sun in these parts has killed normal humans every day; they can't be well... Damn that sheriff! This is all his fault..._

But then, he hadn't seemed too worried. Usually Maggie could tell when something was bothering him. When he'd freaked out about the sheriff, she'd known immediately that he was angry and knew something she didn't about the official, but this time had been different. He hadn't seemed panicked or rushed, even to her senses. Of course he'd probably been in a billion other situations worse than this, but still, wounded and with an unconscious family member--

"Momma, I'm hungry," the girl whispered, cringing as though ready for another tongue-lashing. "And I gotta go."

Maggie whipped around as though she would, mouth opened to scream, but then she saw the fear in her daughter's eyes and the tears running down her face, and her heart softened. She had been rather harsh on the child. Kelly had been terribly upset when those men practically busted their door down armed with large guns. Sighing deeply, Maggie tried to focus on the fact that D had seemed alright when they left, and tried to comfort the child.

"Oh sweetie, I know. I'm sorry, I just... This must have been hard for you too." Maggie sat on the bed beside her and pulled her close. "You're worried for Alucard, aren't you?" The blonde head buried in her chest nodded up and down. "Ohh," she huffed, tucking her under her chin. "Baby, I'm sorry I yelled. I'm worried too..." The crickets outside grated on her ears in the silence.

"I miss them both," Kelly murmured.

"They are rather special, aren't they? We haven't had anyone this close to us since your father died," the woman said softly, as if surprised by her own realization.

_That's right... No one in this town has gotten that close to us, not even our waitresses. Those boys were only here for a few days, and look what happened..._

"It'll all be fine, honey," Maggie said finally. "Now here, go get the wash basin; we'll use that as a privy for now. And I think I have some crackers for emergency rations somewhere under these floorboards."

Her eyes widened. _Floorboards... _

There was a space under the floorboards that led to the basement stairs.

"Hurry up and do your business, Kelly, and then we're gonna go get you those crackers..."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Damn damn damn..._

_"Spread out! I want him found, damn you!"_

The sun would be down in moments. Alucard was barely responding to D, merely a dead weight on his bad shoulder, and the men were hot on their heels. The hunter was stripped head to toe of his usual armour, cape pulled over Alucard to shield him when the sun flared in intensity, and his energy was dwindling. Despite this, the hunter's long legs ate up the ground as quickly as the horses.

_Would that we had a horse around somewhere, or even a goat-- He won't last at this rate._

A bullet whizzed by his head.

_Perhaps neither of us will._

D's fangs were almost full length, protruding from his mouth and emphasizing his need as he grimaced with the effort of dragging his sibling toward the sheltering boulders through sand and stone. The last of the light had almost faded, but not before D got an unprotected faceful of sun. His eyes danced with spots that were not disappearing and the throbbing at the back of consciousness threatened to grow into something more dangerous.

_Where are the rocks? All we could see for miles when we first arrived were mountains and now there aren't any to be found!_

Alucard's heartbeat was slowing, he could hear it in his ears, irregular and weak, and a stab of fear went through him. "Alucard? Alucard-- wake," the dhampire grunted, dragging his legs over a particularly large boulder that was no shelter at all. _Damned desert..._

Closing his eyes, D focused on a pinpoint of light that was centered in Alucard's direction, and _pulled_.

The blond's eyes flew open with a jerk.

"WHAT--"

He was gasping for air. Wide golden eyes focused on D's countenance.

"What-- what did you do?!" Alucard stuttered.

"Old trick-- of the trade," he grunted, pulling both of them over a trio of large but useless rocks. Jump-starting a man into wakefulness was not usually a good, safe idea, but the hunter was out of options. He knew Alucard would probably be unconscious again in a few minutes, so time was of the essence:

"The humans will be on us in moments and the sun is seconds from being down. If we don't get to a cave or a shelter of some sort, we will be caught, or freeze to death. Use that fire spell you did-- there--" D pointed to the base of an old dead tree and the large, flat stone leaning against its trunk. "Can you do it?"

"I-- think--"

D pulled Alucard into position as much as he could so the blond could focus on his task rather than his aim. "Watch out for the backlash," he gritted, glaring at D momentarily to make sure he got the message. D nodded.

With a burst of smoke and flame, the tree suddenly had a small rabbit hole in its base big enough for a man. Letting Alucard down, he rested him against the hillside and clambered into the small chamber, raising his left palm when he reached the end.

"Eat downward," he commanded.

"I _know_," it grumbled. "You'd think I'd never gotten you outta this kinda scrape before or somethin'."

Five minutes later, there was a sizable cave at the end of the tunnel and D was literally dragging Alucard half-awake beneath the ground, pounding the earth above them until the flat rock fell through, effectively blocking the entrance and hiding the black scorch marks. They were now hidden, but still in shallow enough ground as to where they could hear the hoofbeats of horses and even clear consonants of the men arguing above them:

_"--God damn hunters. I told ya Ric, this is exactly what happens when you trust bounty hunters!"_

_"Well you can't say they're _all_ like that,"_ came the reply. Horse number two...

_"I damn well can after what we been through!"_

_"Pipe down up there and keep looking! They can't have run much farther!"_ a young, venomous tenor joined in.

Davis.

Alucard moaned as he drifted in and out of consciousness, his lithe form tossing and turning in the dust, cloak tangling around him. D clapped a hand over the man's mouth, sweat dripping from his face. Exhaustion was taking over; he wouldn't be awake much longer himself.

_"I don't-- did you say something?"_

_"Nope. You told me to shut up, 'member?"_

_"And I said for you two to shut up and keep going! Now get your asses out there or there'll be hell to pay!"_

The horses scuffed as if restless and one by one the hoofbeats faded to nothing.

_D. I feel something. There's something among 'em-- one of those men doesn't smell right_, the demon said in his head. D could feel it too. The dirt around them only just separated him from a field of subtle energy above their heads, dark and constricting. The shadows of the humans' auras faded, and the hunter sighed, sinking back against the cave wall with a heavy fatigue taking over.

_That energy... It felt familiar... reminded me of-- something..._

As he tried to think of what it was, the last thing D visualized before he passed out was the blue flashing energy that had surrounded Alucard's sealed coffin.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Davis spat tobacco juice into the red dirt of the path.

Nothing.

He had told Macwell to keep an eye on those two, and the steel-reinforced shed should have been enough to hold them in their weakened state. They'd taken all the hunter's supplies, including his sword and armour, so they should have been no way to get through. Apparently D had more to him than they'd thought. This was setting his plans back a bit; there wasn't much time before--

"**DAVIS!!**"

The dark-haired man tugged at the kerchief around his neck and rolled his eyes. Too late.

"Any sign of them?" The pony the mayor rode was as fat and stubby as he was, and it tossed its braided mane with an arrogant snort as he brought it alongside Davis's steed. The young sheriff shrugged, towering above them on his tan stallion. Mayor Bityrn bristled at the lackluster response. "Well _look harder! _I pay your salary, you impudent bastard!"

Ire clawed at Davis's stomach. This was getting annoying. "What, did you expect them to just give themselves up?"

"I expect my orders to be followed! You're nothing but a two-bit farmhand, you worthless whelp of a pig farmer! I could have you hanged for--"

A vicelike hand clasped Bityrn's throat and he choked as he was lifted clear off his mount. The pony squealed when the mayor's leg's kicked its sides, taking off from under him and leaving the fat little man struggling in empty air.

"_Ghk-- p-put--_"

"You listen to me, old man," came the venomous reply. "If I wanted, I could kill you right here, take all your precious money and leave you to rot without any of my men batting an eyelash. They are loyal to me, not you, and they know damn well that you don't have anyone's interests in mind but your own. Now me, however--" he grinned, dark eyes shining with a crazed light. The sheriff pointed to himself with his thumb, leaning back in his saddle. "Me, I'm just one of the common guys. I know what it's like to be out in the field all day, getting all shot up and never getting any respect for it."

Davis drew the mayor so close that their noses practically touched.

"This town belongs to me, Mr. Mayor sir. And I think you'd do well to remember that."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Alucard's eyelashes bounced gently on his cheeks for a moment, then lifted.

_Where...?_

The blond pulled his back away from the cave wall and took a deep breath, clearing his lungs of dust and stale air from his hibernation. Where were they? He vaguely remembered rocky terrain and red sand... A dark shape slumped over his knees alerted him to D's presence and his heart momentarily leapt into his throat. "D?"

He relaxed as he heard D's steady heartbeat through his flesh. That's right, he had made them this cave, albeit he couldn't remember hollowing the earth to this extent...

"D? D, wake up," he nudged his sibling.

No response.

Pulling the hunter upright against the rock wall, Alucard settled him into a more comfortable position, his head lolling uselessly over Alucard's shoulder, pillowed by white-blond tresses. Reaching out with his senses, the other dhampire assessed their situation. _We can't have been here long; the scorches have barely cooled._ He shivered involuntarily, realizing it must be nearing the twenties outside. _Must be sundown as well. God, this territory is a harsh place.._.

D's breath was even and natural on his clothing, so he must not have been too bad off when they came in. He would probably need some time to recover from sun exposure, as well as a good dead rat or two for fluids, but Alucard surmised their hideaway would buy them at least a full day before they were discovered.

"I know you for a few full days and already I'm hunted," he snorted, poking the dark head resting on his collarbone. "Is your day _always_ like this?"

"Actually, it's normally a little better," a voice harrumphed back. "You think_ this_ is bad, you should see when he blows his cover _before_ taking the job."

Alucard froze. That had most definitely _not_ been D.

"Down here, pretty boy," the voice spoke again, rather snottily. The blond dhampire stared downward.

It was coming from D's hand.

Tentatively, Alucard picked up the hand and turned it to face palm up. He nearly dropped it: eyes, nostrils, mouth, teeth, tongue-- a face. It was a face. In D's palm. The blond found himself so shocked he didn't speak for a good few moments.

"...Are you-- what are you?"

The face smirked eyelessly: a very disconcerting sight indeed. Alucard tried not to stare as the skin of D's hand moved and stretched with the creature's words: "I'll let D explain when he wakes up. And for all our sakes I hope he does soon, because we're about ten seconds away from having company."

The dhampire blinked.

"We're-- what?"

Alucard's head shot upward as a scuffling sounded above the cave entrance.

_Oh no._

They couldn't be discovered now; D was unconscious and although he wasn't certain, Alucard didn't think his last brush with sun had left him ready for an opponent. No other exit, no cover, no weapons but a dagger and one shoddy pistol... Things didn't look good. The noise continued; the man above them was doing something...

Horseshoes scraped the ground, and the horse whinnied and stamped, sending small cascades of dust onto the two men from the red earth above.

_"Whoa there, boy; just sit still--"_

_He must have thrown a shoe_, Alucard realized. Perhaps he was tying the creature off above them, next to the tree for balance. Holding D against his shoulder to stop any movement, the pale-haired man held his breath, hoping that the henchman above him would finish his business and leave...

_"Hey, just relax; that's my boy--"_ Another scuffle-- then sudden silence. _"Huh?"_

Alucard's eyes swept the entrance. A finger poked through the dirt, sending a ray of weak blue light into the cave.

_"Well I'll be darned,"_ the man whistled, causing the shrill echo to bounce deep into the pocket of empty air.

Their rabbit hole had been found.

The voice sounded closer. "Let's see what we got here--"

Swiftly, Alucard covered D with the cloak, pushing him heavily away into a dark, shielded corner of the cave and attempting to feign sleep. The stone came away from the opening just as he stilled. He felt eyes on him.

"_Holy--_"

A pause. He could practically hear the man's thoughts: _Was it dead? Was it faking? Should he call for help?_ There was no one around... Maybe if he tied the vampire up while he was unconscious, he'd be rewarded; catch the bloodsucker single-handedly. Alucard tried to look as worn and non-threatening as possible without moving a muscle. His only chance would be to overpower the man when he came in after them.

Seconds ticked by as the man worked through his fear, and Alucard forced his heart to still.

After a few brief, agonizing moments of indecision, the man blessedly made the right (or rather, wrong) choice and disappeared, reappearing with a length of thick rope wrapped around his arm, and clambered into the cave on all fours.

Sandy brown hair came into view and the man hissed as he caught his foot on a sharp rock, his farm clothes tearing on the jagged stones. Alucard slid one pale hand slowly toward his knife, a mixture of guilt and fear gnawing at his insides as the human crawled nearer. He didn't want to kill this man, but one mistimed sound from him and the rest of them could come running at any moment.

The man was around thirty, tanned and weather-worn, with a dusty denim shirt and heavy canvas trousers and cowboy boots. Perfectly normal for a frontiersman. He wiped his brow; his hands were shaking as he sat up in the tunnel and uncoiled his rope.

"Easy there... nice vampire..."

_Right_, Alucard sneered inwardly.

A hand grazed his ear and the dhampire's eyes shot open.

The man yelped, but he wasn't quick enough to escape even an exhausted half-Noble. Alucard's knife was at his throat and his other hand yanked the human's head toward its edge, golden eyes promising a swift death if he didn't receive cooperation.

"Don't make a sound," he warned.

The man whimpered.

Alucard really did feel sorry for him; the human was terrified.

Honesty seemed a good policy: "I don't want to kill you, but if you bring them here to us, I will do what I must." Blue eyes widened with fear, beads of sweat trickling down the man's temple, but he didn't shout.

"Do you understand?" Alucard pressed.

Violent nodding, then slightly less adamant movement when the last nod touched his throat to the blade. He swallowed at the feel of cold steel on his skin.

"I-- unders-stand," the human shivered.

A moan broke their eye contact and Alucard whipped around to see D struggling for air. Fear shot through his heart.

"D? D?!"

His first impulse was to rush over and tend to him, but his human hostage was still free. The blond dhampire wrapped the entire length of rope around the human's middle and ankles, then used a handkerchief to bind his wrists. Satisfied that he wouldn't be giving away their location anytime soon, Alucard pulled himself to the prone hunter and shook him violently, panic seeping into the corners of his mind.

"D, what's wrong?! D?! D, say something--"

"He's infected," a voice said gruffly. "Feels like an oven in here."

The sandy-haired man looked around blankly. Who was speaking?

Alucard tried not to bite through his tongue in frustration. What was he supposed to do? They had nothing out here to treat him with! "What do I do with him?" he gritted. The blond swept hair from his face and put his wrist on D's forehead. "He's on fire..."

"Find some blood and clean the wound," the demon spat roughly. "That spell is still in there."

Forcing his legs to move, Alucard ripped a piece of fabric from his sleeve and turned to face the human.

"Do you have any water?" He stared. "Do you?!" Alucard roared, making him jump.

"U-uh I-I-- have a canteen-- it's on the saddle--"

A few moments of searching and a slap to the horse's rear furnished them with a few meager supplies and no proof that horse or rider had ever been there. A lamp in the saddlebag gave him light to work by, and two tin cups accompanied the canteen. A pair of bandannas were quickly destroyed for bandaging. D's waistcoat was opened and shirt removed to use as a pillow, revealing the red, angry wound to the night air.

Alucard's hands were shaking as he doused the wound with whiskey from a bottle hidden in the cowboy's pouch, D's face contorting as the amber liquid seared his flesh.

"Is he conscious?" he asked his brother's palm.

"Lemme check-- nnnnno, he's gone. I can't even contact him in his head."

"Good. Perhaps he won't feel this." Alucard steadied himself against the wall with one hand, breathing deeply to still his rapidly beating heart. The dhampire's vision was swimming, and despite the chill in the air, he felt warm.

_We need blood, and soon-- I'm starting to feel faint. I can't help him if I'm out like a light._

The man behind him swallowed, face soaked in sweat. Looking down at the dark hunter, he saw just how pale he was, and how the injury in his upper arm was swollen to the size of an apple. His breathing was labored, and his hands fisted in pain when the wound was touched. Abruptly D's left hand shot open as the creature inhabiting it forced his fingers open reflexively, revealing his palm.

"_Listen_ 'Cardie, he needs blood and he needs it now-- I can't keep his body heat down much longer! Slit that guy's throat and get us outta this mess!" it screamed.

A stifled gasp as the human saw exactly what lay in the hunter's hand.

"WHA-- what is _that?!_"

Alucard winced at the sound of the man's voice. He didn't want to do this with human blood if he could help it.

_Probably should have drained that horse; I am _not _thinking clearly._

Seeing no alternative, the blond dhampire turned to face his bound captive on the cave floor, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling as he drew himself to full height; at least, as much as he could on his knees. His eyes flashed gold with regret as the man's gaze filled with terror. Even his hair shook with fright as Alucard approached him with his knife.

"Listen to me," he began, "I am not going to kill you. I am not going to turn you, nor am I going to drain you dry. But I need your blood for his survival. Do you understand?" The blond dhampire looked apologetic, but determined. It didn't seem like his speech was working; the cowboy looked as if he was going to wet himself.

Alucard sighed, removing the knife from view. "What is your name?"

Blue eyes started in surprise, darting from him to the injured man on the floor. "Uhh-- uh-- It's-- David-- Dave, call me D-Dave," he managed.

"Dave. My name is Alucard," the half-breed informed him. "Call me Adrian."

The docile normality of that title seemed to take the man by surprise.

"...A-Adrian?"

"Yes, that's right. I need you to calm yourself for me. Can you do that, Dave?"

"U-uh-- I uh--"

"I will not drain anything from you until I have your permission," Alucard stated firmly, making sure Dave's full attention was on him by planting one hand on the wall by his temple. "I need your help, but I am not going to take it by force. I have had enough of the cruelty of men who simply take what they want from others."

Black spots were dancing in his vision on the man's tanned, sweaty features. _Come on, collect yourself; he's almost there-- _

"Will you help me, Dave?" he pressed. Tense silence counted the seconds as Dave stared down the sharp-faced man. D moaned from across the room, twisting in agony as the dark magic flared again.

_Please_, he implored silently. _Help us._

A measure of what he was thinking must have shown on his face, because a split-second later, uncertainty obvious in his eyes, Dave nodded, pulling his wrists up for Alucard to release-- and slice. The dhampire nearly passed out from the relief alone. He nodded back.

"Thank you."

The blade was raised, flashing in the small amount of light from the lamp. Dave did not look reassured at all. Alucard helped the farmhand place a stick between his teeth to stop him from yelling aloud and raised the first cup to his wrist.

"Try not to shout. This will hurt a little..."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It didn't make sense at all.

At twenty-seven years old, unmarried, with no living relatives and a handful of good friends, David Marshall was wondering how in heaven's name he ever got into a situation like this. Living on his companion's farm as hired help, his life had been quite tame for someone who was confined to the Frontier. Monsters, mutants and natural disasters roamed rampant, and crops were harder to grow in the desert than even in the mountains.

In spite of the odds, Dave had a comfortable existance. There was enough food to go around, the animals were surviving, and until the vampires, no creature had ever truly disrupted their way of living. Monthly werewolf hunts kept the wolf and mutant populations down, and few men were lost due to their recent acquisition of heavier firearms.

Things fell into place just like they always had: one accepted the facts and lived comfortably.

But now, in this hole, trapped with two blood-sucking murderers, Dave was totally and utterly confused.

_I don't believe this_, he pondered. _They're supposed to be the bad guys, right? I mean, they sent all those werewolves down to us, they turned Kerry's wife and those families near the border... _

Alucard was curled next to D's prone form, sleeping fitfully as the dark-haired man beside him drew shallow breaths. The human watched in dull silence as the pair slept, air drawn almost in tandem, similar pale faces peaceful and unblemished. David found himself truly troubled. Both vampires were extremely strong and definitely capable of slaughtering him right there whether he wanted them to or not.

_So why did he ask my permission like that?_

The darkness closed around him as the contents of the lamp flickered to its end, and he shifted with a sigh, pulling the saddle blanket around himself. The desert was practically sub-zero at night; he couldn't see how the two of them were asleep in this cold.

As Dave looked on, Adrian began to fidget, and one pale hand withdrew from its dark cloth cover.

As if he'd read the human's mind, half-asleep, the blond dhampire extended his fingers to the middle of the room, and a small spark abruptly banished the darkness. Dave yelped quietly as the tiny white flame expanded until it was a steady, roaring campfire, warming his feet with no fuel below it at all. Even smoke was absent from the blaze.

With wide eyes, Dave watched as Adrian rolled onto his opposite side, covered D further with his cloak, and nestled himself back into the dark folds of his own cape, stilling into sleep shortly after.

David sat in shocked silence, staring dumbly into the flames.

_What in the world have I gotten myself into?_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_D could feel the shadow dancing around him, always fleeting, always just outside his line of vision. Something wasn't right. The blackness mocked him, shrieking with laughter and endless mirth. He whirled this way and that trying to find the Dark, but it wouldn't let him see. Every way he turned, there was nothing, nothing--_

_"So you finally have come back to me, my son," the dark crooned. "You tried so hard erase me from the world, to keep me from your memory. But now that he's here," it laughed, "we won't have to worry about that anymore, will we?"_

_No... No! Leave me--_

_"He will guarantee your damnation," the voice taunted. "You can never forget me, my son. I am part of you. And now, the part of me in him has also been awakened through you. Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it grand? Now, we can be together forever..."_

_No! I have left you behind me! You will never have me!_

_"Really?" the voice asked lightly. "Then how is it that you have more human blood in you now that was not there before? Why not ask him when you wake, hm?" Shadow flickered at his mouth, his eyes-- _

_"He will ensure that you become just-- like-- __**ME**__--"_

_NO! NO! I will NEVER be you! NOOO! D bellowed, trying to bat the growing darkness away, but the more he fought, the more it entered him, suffocating him, burning him, arms and legs caught firmly in a thick web of black--_

_"See you soon, my boy," the shadow crooned. _

_"Very soon."_

_"__**NO!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!**__"_

_Fangs sank deep into his neck, and he knew no more._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

With a panicked cry, D bucked up out of his covering and shot bolt upright, face streaming sweat and shaking like an aspen leaf. Dracula's face was burned into his retinas, and the red earth of the wall resembled the flowing red of blood. He could still see shadows in the corners of his vision.

A gasp from across the room made him turn sharply, and sapphire eyes met dusty blue.

_A human?_

The human was shivering in fright and tied from head to foot, obviously a villager who had gotten too close. Alucard had spared him, it would seem. D and the average-looking farmhand locked gazes for a few moments, frozen in indecision and inquiry.

Then Alucard's deep tones broke his focus.

"D? Are you all right?"

Still shaking, the hunter looked down at where the blond dhampire lay beside him, sitting up and blinking the sleep from his eyes. D didn't answer, seeing far too much of his father in the man for comfort. The words from the dream plagued him even as he stared into Alucard's golden gaze, so unlike the vampire king's:

"_He will guarantee your damnation. He will ensure that you become just like ME."_

A frigid, involuntary shudder wracked D's frame, and his eyes closed in reflex against it. D felt Alucard's hand snaking over his wrist and automatically slapped it away, pulling back against the dirt wall.

There was silence as he registered the hurt in his brother's face.

"...I am sorry," he mumbled from beneath a curtain of wavy hair.

Alucard stayed motionless, averting his gaze. D was obviously shaken and not quite aware of his surroundings. "You are not yet well," the pale-haired man offered quietly. "I... cleansed your wound and gave you blood, but it seems the wound is residual. There is still some remainder of the spell left within it."

D started. His father's words echoed in his head, making his sick to his stomach:

"_Then how is it that you have more human blood in you now that was not there before? Why not ask him when you wake, hm?"_

"You-- gave me blood?" he choked.

The hunter's eyes fell on a bandage covering the human's left wrist.

His heart leapt into his throat.

D stared accusingly at the dhampire beside him. "You-- you took it from _him??_" The dark-haired man felt his clawed hands delving into the dirt floor and fisting hard enough to bleach his knuckles deathly white.

_Human blood-- I've drunk human blood!_

Never, not once in his life had D ever drunk from a human. He saw it as the ultimate transgression, a sin as doleful as that of the Nobles he so rigorously hunted. His father had spilled the contents of hundreds of human veins, and he swore the day he began his life as a hunter that his lips would never touch human fluids. Animals, mutants, monsters of any kind-- even vampire blood would be drunk if necessary.

But never, NEVER, had he consumed a mortal.

Alucard sensed D's grip on reality slipping. There was a crazed look behind his eyes and a pallor to his cheeks telling of a great weight on his shoulders. His brother was having a total meltdown.

"D--"

Dave looked on in horror as D's chestnut mane began to float with an unseen energy, and the blue pendant at his breast glowed dimly with a light that did not come from without. His voice was deadly soft.

"_How-- dare you--_" The hunter's eyes flashed, his eyeteeth elongating and tapering into sharp points. "How dare you do this to me?!"

"B-But-- I--"

Alucard was beside himself. This had obviously been an encroachment of D's personal standards on his part, but he'd had no choice; the other dhampire would have died if he hadn't given him the life-fluid. The blond took his sibling by both shoulders. His eyes begged D to forgive him, pleading with him to understand as he struggled to escape Alucard's grasp.

"D, believe me-- I didn't know what else to do-- He-- he said it was the only way; he said you needed blood, so I-- I--"

D stopped in mid-roar.

"...He?"

The hunter opened his left hand and stared blankly at the features within.

"Yes, he," Alucard confirmed, still hoping for some sort of expiation.

A fire lit itself deep in the confines of the dhampire's chest. This was unforgivable. _He_ knew, he knew better than anyone what D held most dear. The moment he had been cast out from vampiric society, it had been his curse and his gain to have this demon bound in his own flesh and bone, but never before had the annoying creature gone against him, not like this.

There were a few deft pauses before D slung his sword from its sheath and began sawing downward on his own wrist.

"D! WHAT ARE YOU--?!"

Alucard cried out and flung himself at the deranged hunter in an effort to halt his destructive behavior, but to no avail.

D was on a rampage.

"_Speak!_" he roared at the thing, bracing it against the earth as he cut. "You knew of the oath! You _knew!_ And yet you would still have him force that swill upon me?! _**ANSWER!**_"

The demon gurgled through the blood gushing from D's severed wrist. His blade had gone about halfway through; a few inches more and the hand would be off completely.

"_Gghl-- you know there was n-no other way_," it gasped out. "_Either that or you die without fulfilling your first oath-- the first oath, D-- what would have happened-- if you'd died eh--? Can't have that yet-- can we--?_"

With a final wrenching of steel into soft white skin, D removed the weapon and resheathed it. He sat cross-legged, glaring down at the offending appendage with all the fires of hell.

"I will one day be rid of you from my person," he spoke disgustedly. "And that day will be your last."

Around the swiftly healing muscle and gore, a weary chuckle wafted up from the demon.

"And yours, my friend. And yours."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Reviews really do get me going to write more. Hm? Hm? Winkwink nudgenudge say no more?

Thanks for sticking with me on this, you reviewers thus far have been so awesome! I love the input you've been giving me. Saeth Caeirwyn, Wyn and sunbune, you guys have been most helpful! I love the suggestions and believe me, you've made me notice stuff about the story that I didn't even know when I wrote it! Much obliged! (bows)

Keep readin' yall, and I will keep writin'! (Ahh who am I kidding, I want to see this finished as much as the rest of you cool people XD)

TTYS!


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